


Kiss Today Goodbye (and point me toward tomorrow)

by impravidus



Series: and they were roommates [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Harley Keener, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Harley Keener & Peter Parker Friendship, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Break Up, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Prom, Protective Harley Keener, Recovery, Slow Burn, Therapy, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24455695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus
Summary: Finding the calm in the storm. Finding the light in the dark.~Fifth book of the "and they were roommates" series~
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: and they were roommates [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1414066
Comments: 175
Kudos: 251





	1. I Don't Know How To Come Back

By the time Harley made it back to the compound, he was soaking wet from the torrential rain that poured his entire walk back. The rain mixed with his tears of frustration and made him feel like he was drowning again.

Tony was silent as he trudged to him, his wet jeans feeling like sandpaper against his bare skin. He knew Tony wanted answers and was steaming with anger, but he couldn’t handle it. Not now.

When his breathing evened, and the sobs turned to silent streams of tears, Tony finally spoke up.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” Harley replied, dull and numb, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“You can’t afford to not think! You can’t just… you can’t do this shit.”

“I know.”

“No. You don’t know. You don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to find out that my kid that has been missing for seven weeks suddenly went MIA. Thank fuck that I have protocols and monitors on your suit because then I find out that you were  _ shot _ ? I mean, what would happen if you… I can’t… you can’t do this.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

“I can’t do...  _ this _ ,” Harley said, waving his hand at Tony.

“Do what? Face the consequences of your actions? Own up to your mistakes? Realize that tonight could’ve gone a lot differently? I mean, shit, you could have  _ died.  _ Do you understand that? There’s no coming back from that.”

“Well I feel like there’s no coming back at all!” Harley snapped. “Because I feel like everyone wants me to be the person I used to be and for everything to go back the way it used to be, but I can’t. I can’t just move on. I can’t just get better. I can’t just come back after everything that happened.”

“No one expects you to…”

“Yes,” Harley interrupted. “Abby does. Peter does. Even you do.”

“We want you to progress. To heal. We don’t want you to just let all of this go,” Tony said, trying to maintain a calm voice.

“Well it doesn’t feel that way!”

“Hey!” Tony barked sharply. “I don’t appreciate your tone. I have been doing everything I could possibly do to help you re-acclimate and make you feel comfortable and safe, but I will not stand here and watch you self-destruct.” He stepped closer to the teen. “I watched over the footage from your suit, and I think that you need to take a step back from your self-centered, victimizing BS, and realize that you’re not the only one who is hurting.”

“I…”

“Nope. Zip it. I’m talking. We have been patient. We have been very patient, but you’ve given us nothing back. You don’t accept the treatment that we are providing you and you aren’t putting forth nearly as much effort as everyone else is putting into you. You said you feel like we are treating you with glass? Well, maybe consider that it’s not just because we feel like patronizing you, and maybe there’s a reason that we are being so cautious. And yes, that’s what it is. It is being cautious. We are being cautious because you have a very fragile mindset and we don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t care if you don’t believe that. That we actually care about you. But we do, and even though you’re making it very hard for us to continue doing so, we will, and we will continue to do so.

“Peter has been going through absolute hell for you and had been while you were gone. I know he’s been holding it together while he’s around you, but he is dragging himself through the mud to make sure you’re okay. He’s been a single father to a kid that’s not even his for months and just when he gets his partner back, he just ends up taking care of him too. Have you considered the stress you’ve been putting him under?”

“I… have.”

“Really? Because after hearing your little spat with him, I’d think that you have no idea how he feels.”

“It’s not like he talks to me about it!” Harley exclaimed.

“Well how can he when you react like this?!”

Harley retracted back. 

“You have to hold yourself accountable for your behavior because if you don’t want to be treated like glass, I’m not going to tiptoe around you anymore. So, here’s your wake up call. You’re going to go to therapy, and you’re not going to skip sessions, and you’re going to suck it up and deal with it. You’re going to follow a strict schedule with your online schooling because you’re not going back to Midtown. You’re going to tell me whenever  _ anything _ is wrong. Mild discomfort, major trigger, anything and everything.  _ And  _ you’re also going to keep a journal tracking everything from your diet, your mood, and every moment you feel any sort of trigger. Is that understood?”

Harley nodded. “Understood.”

“Now go get changed. You’re tracking water through my halls.”

.-~*~-.

Peter knocked on the door of Ned’s bedroom window. “Code black, Ned. Please open up.”

Code black meant it was very serious. It was a “drop everything you’re doing and do nothing but sit there and listen if the other person talks” kind of deal. Code black meant no questions asked and only give advice when prompted. 

Ned ran to the window and slid it open. He took no mention of Peter’s suit, drenched in rain water. He didn’t comment on Peter’s bloodshot eyes and sniveling nose. He just held out his arms with a raised eyebrow.

Peter pressed the spider emblem on his suit, and pulled Ned into a weak hug, a choked sob ripping through his throat. He kept shaking his head against Ned’s shoulder just muttering incomprehensible mumbles.

After the shaking of his shoulders steadied and his hiccuping became more of a calm breath, Ned pulled away. He nodded his head to his dresser to which Peter gave a silent nod.

He watched tentatively as Peter pulled the much too large t-shirt and pajama pants over his trembling limbs. As soon as he finished, he collapsed into Ned’s arms once more.

Ned rubbed gentle circles in Peter’s back as the smaller teen began to gasp for air again. He shushed him softly, breaking the code black to whisper words of comfort to the brown haired boy.

Clenching his jaw as he forced himself to take a deep breath, he gave a shaky smile to his best friend, eyes puffy and nose still running. “Hi.”

Ned gave a worried smile back. “Hi.”

“You can ask,” Peter said softly.

“What happened?”

“Well, I… I know looks are deceiving, but I’m actually furious right now. Full on “I’m gonna rip off the arms of an Iron Man suit and crumble the titanium alloy in my bare hands and throw it into the Hudson like a glorified skipping stone” furious. The kind of furious that really, really requires some pillows to scream in and my mad playlist to belt to until my throat is raw.”

“That bad, huh?” Ned asked.

“That bad.”

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. My mom is throwing away her old, gross mattress out, and I happen to know that she’s also replacing her kitchen knives soon, so how about we go to the garage, and you can stab that mattress to your heart’s content while we listen to P!nk and Taylor Swift.”

Peter nodded. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Let’s go.”

Peter ripped the mattress to shreds. He screamed and he cried some more and yelled a lot of out of context Harley centric exclamations until there was nothing left to tear with the serrated kitchen knife. Out of breath, he fell to the ground, dropping the knife with a harsh clatter. He covered his face with his hands and busted out into hysterical laughter.

“Peter?” Ned asked cautiously.

“Fuck me! Right? Of course I just, I’m Peter Parker, so I just fuck everything up. That’s so me. That’s  _ so me. _ ”

“Peter. You’ve gotta breathe.”

“How can I? How can I breathe knowing that I just… and he just… fuck! I mean, he just… that’s so like  _ him.  _ That’s so like  _ us.  _ Of course he’d… and I’d… and me and my big fat fucking mouth having to… and he just… and I just… fuck!”

“Breathe.”

Peter’s laughter morphed into more tears and cut off gasps. “Fuck.  _ Fuck. _ I can’t… he just… and I just…”

“ _ Breathe. _ ”

Peter sucked in heaps of air, head filled with pressure, making him blindingly dizzy. His chest vibrated and tingled, a heavy held against it. “I can’t see him again. Not after everything he… and that I…”

“You don’t have to see him.”

“What am I going to tell Abby?” Peter bit the inside of his mouth.

“You don’t have to worry about that right now. Let’s go back inside. Get some rest. We can think about this in the morning, alright?”

Peter nodded, numb. “Alright.”

“Let’s go.”

.-~*~-.

Harley stormed to the training room, fists tight, nails digging into his palms. He didn’t bother turning the lights on, instead running to the punching bags, slamming his fist into the hard plastic. He let out a guttural scream, ripping through his throat with a harsh sting. He swung at the punching back over and over and over again, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he didn’t hold back his loud sobs. His arms ached, his knuckles split and bloody as he kept punching the bag, and his blood boiled, the veins in his neck feeling as though they were going to burst from how tense he was. He couldn’t stop though. He couldn’t stop. The pain was blinding, almost relieving, and he needed it.

“Hey. Hey!  _ Hey! _ ” 

He felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, pulling him away from the bag as he still swung his arms to fight back. 

“Let me go! I have to… let me… I can’t… I…”

The pair of arms pulled him to the floor, pinning him against their body.

“I’m here. I’m here, bud. I’m here.”

“Tony…” Harley weakly croaked, “he’s gone.”

“I know. I know.”

Harley choked out another sob. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

“I want to get better,” Harley said, voice raw.

“You’re gonna get better. Okay? We’re gonna help you get better.”

Harley stood up quickly, the blood rushing to his head as he dizzily wobbled. “I have to get back to the apartment. Abby’s…”

“We have to get you cleaned up first,” Tony insisted.

Harley looked down at his cracked knuckles, blood trickling down his dry skin. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

.-~*~-.

“I need to call her.”

Ned looked to Peter with concern laced in his furrowed brow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I can’t let her think I just left her. I can’t do that to her.”

“And what are you gonna tell her that’s gonna reassure her that you’re not leaving when that’s exactly what you’re doing?”

Peter pursed his quivering lips. “Please.”

Ned hesitantly handed him his phone. “Here.”

Peter video called her StarkPad. When she answered, his heart dropped at the sight of her discombobulated, frantic worry in her eyes. “Peter. Where are you? And Harley?”

“Harley’s not there with you?” Peter asked, blood boiling again.

“No. Mrs. Mooney dropped me off after rehearsal and I’ve been home alone and Harley wasn’t home and I thought something might have…”

“I’m coming right now. Okay? I’ll be right there.” Peter pulled on his mask. “Karen, connect to Abby’s StarkPod.”

Ned held out his hand. “Peter, you shouldn’t…”

“I’ll be there soon, Abby. Just keeping talkin’ with me.” Peter slipped on his suit, and hurried to Ned to pull him into a hug. “Thanks, Ned,” he whispered and then promptly jumped out of his window, swinging off into the night.

.-~*~-.

Harley winced as Tony disinfected his knuckles, biting into a towel as he held back a scream. 

“It’ll be over soon. It’s okay.”

Harley merely nodded, unable to do anything else.

Tony carefully wrapped his hands in soft bandages while Harley stared blankly at his knuckles, cursing himself for being so impulsive.

“Why did you come here?” Tony asked.

Harley looked up. “What?”

“Why did you come to the Compound instead of your apartment?”

Harley paused, looking back to his hands. “I guess I didn’t want to be surrounded by him while I was still…” He gulped. “Because everything there is him and memories of him and reminders of him and I couldn’t handle… because then I’d just be reminded that he’s… and that we’re…”

“It’s alright.”

“No! It’s not! It’s not alright, and I… I can’t believe I… and he… and that we… how could I… how could I be so damn selfish? How could I really… I didn’t even _ see  _ that he… God. I…”

“There’s nothing you can do about that anymore. You can’t change the past.”

“Because the only thing I can control is what I’m gonna do next.” Harley bobbed his head. “Peter always said that.” He bit his lip hard.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back?”

“I have to. For Abby.”

Tony frowned, but nodded. “Okay. I’ll drive you. We can turn around at any time, okay? Just say the word.”

“I’m not gonna.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go.”

.-~*~-.

Peter hopped onto the fire escape, opening the window hastily before shimmying off his suit and throwing on his softest pajamas and rushing to Abby’s room. He plastered on his shell of strength and gave her a comforting smile.

She ran to him and gave him a crushing hug, clinging onto his oversized waffle-knit sleepshirt. “I was so scared.”

“I’m sorry, sugarbug. I’m alright. We’re alright. I promise.”

“Where were you?”

“I had some Spider-Man business to attend to. Harley was… he was out there too.”

“Why?!” she exclaimed. “Why was he out there with you?! He shouldn’t be out there!”

“I know. I know. That’s why… he wanted to help, but I told him he wasn’t allowed to help. And then we had a bit of a disagreement, so we needed some time to calm down,” Peter struggled to explain.

“You guys had a fight?”

Peter spluttered out filler words as his brain tried to catch up with his mouth. “We are just disagreeing right now.”

“Why?” Abby looked up at him with innocent, wide eyes.

“Harley needs more time to get better, and I need some time to get better too. Sometimes, when two people are hurting and try to help someone else, the only thing they’re doing is taking pieces from themselves to build the other person up. But, when they do that, they’re not really building anything because the pieces… they just… they just stay in one place and no one gets better. So, sometimes, to get better, people have to build themselves up first before they can give pieces to someone else.”

“So you and Harley have to put yourselves together first.”

Peter nodded. “Yes. That’s… yes.”

“But… you can’t do that together?”

Peter’s smile faltered. “No. We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“B-because we… it’s gonna keep us from getting better if we’re together.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes when people are struggling, they need a break from other people who are struggling so they can focus on loving themselves.”

“So you can’t love Harley because you need to love you?”

“I… I love Harley. I love him a lot. But I can’t give my love to him right now because then I wouldn’t have any for myself.”

“What about me? You can’t love me anymore?”

His eyes went wide. “No. No no no, of course not. I will always love you. The love I have for you is a different kind of love. It’s… a special love. It’s a love that I can have without taking any of my own love. But I just… I don’t think I’m gonna be in a place to give away my love. So, I may… I may need to keep some of my love for a while.”

“Do you… do you need some of my love?”

Peter smiled sadly. “I always appreciate your love, Abby. But the only love that will help me be me again is my own love, and I don’t know how to find that just yet.” He crouched down to her level. “But know that I love  _ you  _ so so so much. I love you so much that the part of my heart that holds all of my love for you is gonna burst because it’s overflowing for my love with you. But I just need…”

“Time. Like Harley.”

Tears pricked his eyes. “Yeah. I need time.”

“Is it gonna be like Harley? Lots of time?”

He sighed. “I don’t know, sweetpea.”

“You have to go, don’t you?” she asked, dejected.

Peter nodded, eyes wet. “Yeah. I do.”

There’s a frazzled shake of the doorknob.

Peter’s head shot up. “Stay here.”

“Wait, Peter, it’s…”

“Abby! I’m back! Where are you?”

Peter went rigid. When Harley’s eyes met his, he froze. “Peter. I… you said you were going to Ned’s.”

“That was before I found out you left your little sister home alone.”

“Peter…”

“I told you. I can’t do this. I told you. I can’t… not tonight. I came back for Abby, but I can’t stay,” Peter headed to their room, stuffing a duffel bag with clothes, electronics, and toiletries.

“Peter…”

“I’m gonna stay with Mr. Stark for a while. I can’t… I need time, okay? I need time. So, just…” he turned around, crouching down to Abby’s level. “You tell me if you need  _ anything _ , alright? If something is wrong I’ll… I… I love you so so much. I just need time to find my love for me again.”

“Please don’t go,” Abby said, lip pouted out.

Peter pulled her into one last hug. “I’m so sorry, sugarbug.” As he headed out the door, he turned around hesitantly.  _ Clap, double snap, clap. (I love you) _

_ Clap, double snap, clap, right circle snap. (I love you too) _

“Goodbye.”

The door closed with a click, and Harley felt his knees give in. He steadied himself, turning to Abby who looked at him with big, teary eyes. She looked at Harley with anger burning in her eyes. “I want Peter back. I don’t want you back.”

Before Harley could respond, though he was unable to as his jaw dropped in shock, Abby ran to her room and slammed the door shut.

Harley fell to the couch, covering his face with his hands.  _ Fuck. _ There’s no coming back from this. 


	2. Nothing Stops Another Day

Peter stared out the window of Tony’s car, silent tears falling down his cheeks.

When Tony got a text from Peter as he was ready to drive away saying that he needed to stay at the compound for a while, Tony didn’t question it. He didn’t poke or prod or ask what was on his mind. He just let him climb into the passenger side, resting his head on the tinted window, lip bit so hard that he thought it would bleed.

When his breath evened out and his head drooped to his chest, Tony turned on his seat warmer and made sure to drive smoothly.

As they approached the Compound, Tony debated whether or not to wake the teen, but decided he needed to get his rest in his bed.

With a gentle tap on the shoulder, Peter awoke with a sharp gasp.

“Just me,” Tony said.

“Mr. Stark. Sorry, I… sorry.” He rubbed his eyes as he yawned.

“When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

Peter frowned. “Right now?”

“I mean before now.”

“Well, I slept for a couple hours on Saturday,” Peter said.

“And what is a couple hours?” Tony asked.

“Two,” Peter muttered.

He sighed. “I’m calling a full blackout in your room. You are going to bed and you are sleeping, alright? No argument. You need to sleep.”

Peter nodded, no energy to fight back. “Understood.”

That night, the soft mattress felt heavenly on Peter’s aching muscles. He stared at the ceiling, tears not daring to fall again, not that he thought he even had any left in him.

His chest slowly rose up and fell slowly down, long and sluggish, and he felt himself finally fall into the sweet darkness of sleep.

.-~*~-.

Peter groggily headed to the kitchen, head pounding from dehydration, and chest numb with a dull throb tingling in his heart. He licked his dry lips and rubbed his swollen eyes as he headed to the fridge. 

He pulled a sparkly plastic root beer float mug from the shelf, and went to the fridge, trying to fill the cup with ice, but the ice machine wasn’t ejecting it.

He pressed the cup against it again to no avail. Peter’s grip on the handle nearly morphed the plastic. He pulled it away and a piece of ice fell on the ground.

His body went rigid, muscles tensing painfully tight as he stared at the ice on the floor. His lip quivered, his eyes glued to the cube, hands trembling violently. His teeth chattered as he struggled to breathe, the air feeling like thick oil in his lungs. He choked out a gasp, collapsing beneath himself, back pressed against the cold refrigerator as his legs were spread out on the hardwood.

He laughed. He laughed until he was choking for air again and his chest was tight and fuzzy and his head was spinning. He laughed until there were tears streaming down his face and his throat was raw. He just laughed and laughed because that’s all he could do. 

What was his life? What was he doing? What was he supposed to do?

Every parent he had were dead, the first person he ever thought he loved was kidnapped, tortured, and traumatized and  _ he  _ cut  _ him  _ out, he just left a little girl who depended on him and maybe even loved him with a guy who was barely capable of taking care of himself. He just spent half a year teetering a tightline above a fiery abyss of harsh reality, and he held it together because he had to. He hadn’t given himself a second to process because he couldn’t give himself a second. But now he had all the seconds in the world, and everything he had been holding back for months was hitting him all at once.

He was an orphan.

He just cut out the boy he loved.

He just left the child he never asked for, and never asked to love, but did.

Peter laughed. He laughed until his laughter morphed into hysterical sobs. He hiccuped and heaved and hurt. It was as if the shield that had been protecting him had been shattered in one blow.

And then he was silent. He was just breathing. He was just staring at the white cabinets, focusing on the steady up and down of his stomach as he breathed and the sound of his heartbeat steadying to a soft rhythm and the floaty nothingness.

He was an orphan.

He needed space from the boy he loved.

He needed to get better for the child he loved.

.-~*~-.

“Can we talk?”

Peter looked up from the bolognese he was eating from glass tupperware. “Uh, sure?”

“So…” Tony started awkwardly. He wasn’t one for heart to hearts, and definitely not for the conversation he was about to start. “Spider-Man.”

Peter dropped his spoon. “What about him?”

“Are you sure you should…”

“Yes.”

_ “Peter.” _

Peter sighed. “He’s… he’s all I’ve got, Mr. Stark. And I know, if I’m nothing without the suit… but I’m not nothing. I know I’m not nothing without it. But that doesn’t mean that the constant isn’t… the constant is nice. And I’m doing good, and if I’m doing good, then at least I know that I’m…” he trailed off. “But if you’re taking the suit then I… I don’t know, but I… I can live with it, but I don’t want to. So please, if you… can we talk about it?”

“That’s all this is, Pete. Don’t worry. We’re just talking.”

Peter let out a breath of relief. “Okay.”

“So, you still haven’t toned it down since our last talk.”

Peter bit the insides of his cheeks and nodded silently.

“And why’s that?”

“Sometimes I… I get into this mindset and I… I don’t think about it. I don’t really think.”

“You’ve gotta think, kid. That’s part of the job,” Tony retorted.

“I know, I know, it’s just. It… it comes with the dissociation.”

“Dissociation?” Tony questioned.

“I’ve been losing hours. Sometimes days. I just, I check out mentally and my body takes over. I… really don’t remember much of the last couple months. Just bits and pieces. Faded memories and moments in time where I was present.”

Tony frowned. “The last couple months, you said? When did it start?”

“I mean, I’ve always had it. It just amplifies when I’m stressed or going through something stressful. It’s my body’s way of protecting me, I think, because when I’m gone it’s easier.”

“Peter, that’s not normal. You shouldn’t… you’re saying that you’ve just been lost in dreamworld for months and you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I’m… it’s not dreamworld. It’s… it’s like I’m in the passenger seat to my own body. I know that I’m saying things and I’m doing things, but I’m not fully there. It’s like I turn into someone else when I’m gone. It’s like, school Peter is attentive and takes diligent notes and knows all the answers to the questions because he has all the data stored in the forefront of his mind. And then Abby’s Peter smiles and assures her everything is fine and knows all her friend’s names and her favorite foods and makes sure to wash her favorite sweaters when he does a load of laundry because she wants to wear them again. But, Spider-Man? He… he’s trying to do the right thing, and he’s trying to get the bad guys, but he isn’t thinking about his strength and he’s just focused on getting them and maybe even roughing them up and Spider-Man would never… he’d never kill someone, but hurting someone is easy because it’s easier to hurt the bad guys than it is to hurt…” 

Peter shook his head. “I’m trying. I’m trying not to let myself… to try and be here. But it’s so easy. It’s so much easier to just disappear. It’s so much easier to not feel and let myself live without me because he’s so much better than me. It’s so easy to pretend because pretending means I don’t have to…”

He chuckled anxiously. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to… I’ll pull it together. I’m sorry.”

“Hey. Don’t be sorry. You… why didn’t you say anything?” Tony asked, voice edged with worry.

“Because I was fine with it. Like I said, it was just… easier. And then if someone knew then I’d have to stop and having to stop was… scary. It still is scary, but I… now or never, I guess.”

“Peter. Stop deflecting. This is a real problem,” Tony stated unamused.

Peter twisted the friendship bracelet on his wrist. “I know.”

“What helps you get back into the moment?”

Peter shrugged. “Things. People. Tethers.”

“Tethers? What are tethers?”

“Things that I can focus on. Things like…” He looked down to the bracelet he was fiddling with. “Repetition and physical reminders that I’m still here.” He smiled softly as his palm. “When Ben died, I used to hold rocks in my hand and I would just pass them back and forth and the weight would just give me something to focus on. We painted them with glitter nail polish so I could feel the ridges and texture.”

“Is that what you need? Glittery rocks?”

Peter laughed dryly. “I don’t know what I need.”

Tony frowned.

“I’ll figure it out, Mr. Stark. And if I don’t, then… at least I’ve got you to help me figure it out. I know you never asked for any of this and I’m sorry for that, but know that I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me and for him.” He nodded, swallowing a thick lump stuck in his throat. “We’ll figure it out.”

.-~*~-.

It turned out that being present took a lot of energy. Much more energy than it did to sit in the backseat of dissociation as his body took over for him. He ran his thumb over the purple glitter poking out on his rock, spinning it around in his palm.

He chewed at his lip, the raw skin regenerating just to be chewed off again. He took a long draw of air. As he entered his physics class, his heart dropped in a familiar weight as he eyed the empty chair next to his.

He struggled to pay attention in class, not because it was hard, but because he knew all the content already. He drummed his fingers on the black tabletop, trying to focus on the pressure on his fingertips and ignore the empty pit in his chest that incessantly gnawed at his brain.

As he entered the lunchroom, he slipped on his sound dampeners, the ache of Harley looming over the forefront of his mind, and sat at his usual table with MJ and Ned.

“Hey, dude. How are you doing?” Ned asked.

“Loaded question,” Peter responded.

“Yeah. Figured.” Ned looked tentatively at MJ. 

“You can tell her,” Peter said flatly.

“You sure? It’s not really my story to tell.”

“It’s fine. Though, I’m sure she’s figured it out already.” Peter took a bite out of his burrito that wasn’t fully microwaved that he didn’t want to wait the extra half a minute and hold up the line for.

“Harley and Peter are on a break.”

“Broke up,” Peter corrected.

“Broke up,” Ned repeated. “And now Peter is living with Mr. Stark.”

MJ didn’t have a clever quip or a sarcastic remark or even a tease. She just nodded, slightly solemn. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Peter replied, chewing on lukewarm beans.

“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.

“Not good,” Peter stated simply.

“Do you need to talk about it?” Ned asked.

“Not right now,” Peter said honestly.

“What  _ do  _ you need?” MJ questioned.

“Something normal. Anything normal,” Peter said.

“Alright. Cool cool. We can do normal,” Ned said. “ _ Arrow _ came to Netflix, and I finally caught up, and I had to buy the crossover episodes on YouTube but I…” Ned eyed Peter whose eyes were welling with tears. “Okay, or maybe not  _ Arrow _ ? Okay, not  _ Arrow. _ Uh, that roller coaster project was ridiculous…” A choked sob escaped Peter’s lips. “Alright! Not that either. Uh, MJ. A little help?”

“Let’s go to the library, alright? There’s this corner between the graphic novels and biographies that no one ever goes to. That sound good?”

Peter nodded, hand gripping the stone in his hand, nearly cracking the surface.

“Let’s go,” MJ repeated. “Ned, grab his backpack.”

The carpeted floor of the library was nice. Peter ran his fingers over the rough bumps as his back rested against the wood shelves.

His breathing had settled and he was struggling to focus on his tethers.

“Peter, I’m gonna say something, and you’re gonna listen, alright?” MJ said.

Peter nodded.

“We weren’t there when everything went to shit. We know that. We let you push us away and we took your word to heart and we didn’t fight to help you through your hardest times. But we aren’t gonna make that mistake again. We are  _ here _ , Peter Parker, and you are not getting rid of us. We are gonna bother you and poke and prod you and if we have to send your hourly messages of encouragement and love, then I’ll suck it up and do that, because we  _ need  _ you to know, that we aren’t going anywhere. Not again. We wasted too much damn time being petty and shitty friends and we aren’t making that mistake again.”

Peter smiled tearily. “Thank you guys.”

“Now,” MJ started. “Let’s pick out a biography of a random old white guy and make fun of the art.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on my personal experience with dissociation. My experience does not reflect everyone's, but I hope I wrote it in a way that makes sense.
> 
> If you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	3. How Do You Know Who You Are Until You Cross The Line?

“Tell me about your week.”

Harley raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a file?”

“I do, but I want to hear it from you. Hear your perspective.”

Harley tugged at his flannel sleeve. “It’s been a pretty shitty week. Pretty sure my boyfriend broke up with me which is fun. Had a major breakdown in public in front of all of my peers. Have been falling into catatonic states again which is just great. Oh! And my little sister hates my guts. So I’m doing great. Really thriving.”

“Was there anything good that happened?”

Harley looked up. “Hard to pick out the good when my life is snowballing into a fiery heap of garbage.”

“Just try. Name one good thing that happened this week.”

Harley paused. “I faced one of my triggers.”

“And how did that go?” she asked.

“Nothing happened.”

“That’s a good thing,” Dr. Carlyle stated.

“It wasn’t anything,” Harley said with a frown.

“You’ve overcome something that was hindering you. What was the trigger?”

“Surely this is in your file,” Harley said monotonously.

“Humor me,” she said.

“I raised my arms above my head,” Harley said with hesitance.

“And how did that make you feel?”

“I didn’t feel anything.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” she questioned.

“Because… because I should feel something, right? It should matter. It should… is me getting over my triggers just gonna be… like it was nothing? And they were treating me like I… and I…” He paused. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s…” He scrunched his brows as he thought. “It’s frustrating. That it doesn’t matter more to me. That it doesn’t feel like an accomplishment.”

“Because you’re not treating it like an accomplishment,” she stated. 

“Well how am I supposed to when it feels like nothing?!” he snapped.

“You have to hold onto the little achievements. When you climb a mountain, you don’t just take one big leap. You have to trek the rocky terrain. Each bump you cross is a step, and each step is an accomplishment. Treat them as such.”

“How?”

She handed him a journal. “I heard that you were going to start journaling. Well, in addition to your everyday logging — the diet, mood, trigger logging — I also want you to list three little accomplishments. They can be anything. Start small: brushing your teeth, drinking some water, changing clothes. Once you can appreciate the little steps, maybe you can see how important the big ones are too.”

Harley stared at the journal, a pang in his chest leaving him breathless. “Okay.”

.-~*~-.

Harley poured a bowl of Crispy Rice with fresh blueberries for Abby and set it on the counter along with three pieces of microwave bacon and a glass of orange juice.

As she exited her room, rubbing her eyes lethargically, she sat at the table quietly. “Good mornin’.”

“Mornin’,” Harley responded, nibbling on his own pieces of bacon. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” Abby said.

“Uh, what’s on the agenda today?” Harley asked awkwardly.

“I have rehearsal after school,” Abby said, not looking up.

“Right. Well, I… when do I pick you up?”

“5:30,” she said blankly.

“Right,” Harley repeated. He watched in an uncomfortable silence as she ate her cereal and sipped her juice. “Right,” Harley said quieter, to himself, and pulled out his phone.

**@anastasiadelancey01: Hey sexy. You and me, tonight, bottle of Vanilla Smirnoff.**

**@anastasiadelancey01: I’ve still got that lacy little thing that I know you loved tearing off of me.**

Harley rolled his eyes.

@htkeener: no thanks. 

**@anastasiadelancey01: Oh, playing hard to get. I see how it is.** **  
** @htkeener: not hard to get.

@htkeener: no thanks.

Harley’s eyes went wide as he quickly exited his Instagram DMs, panicked that Abby got a glimpse of the provocative image he was sent. However, she was obliviously munching on her cereal.

Harley sucked in a deep sigh, shifting as he stood. Surprisingly, he didn’t get anything from that photo. If anything, he felt repulsed by the sentiment. And yet, he couldn’t stop staring at his phone. Not because he wanted to talk to her, but because he was waiting for a name he knew wouldn’t appear. 

“You ready to go?” 

Harley was broken out of his trance. “Y-yeah. I am.”

.-~*~-.

“How are you feeling about the breakup with your boyfriend?”

“Shitty. Horrible. Terrible.”

“Those are all valid feelings.”

“It ended on such horrible terms and I just… I want to take it all back,” Harley admitted, frustrated.

“But you can’t,” Dr. Carlyle pointed out the obvious.

“Yeah. I can’t.” He sighed. “I just can’t… I can’t handle knowing that he’s upset with me. That I can’t make it up to him until we both are… when we’re both in a better place and I can truly prove to him that I’m a different person.”

“You don’t have to be a different person. You need to be you.”

“Yeah, a kinder, calmer, understanding me,” Harley retorted. “And he won’t accept my apologies, no matter how sincere, until he realizes that I’m actually doing what I say I am.”

“So, you can’t handle rejection.”

“Huh?” Harley’s head snapped up.

“Did you ever consider your persistent need to be forgiven comes from an inability to accept rejection?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You said your father left you when you were young,” she stated.

“I… yes?” Harley stammered. “But I don’t know how that’s relevant…”

“So that must have made you feel like you weren’t good enough. That there was something wrong with you for him to leave you like that.”

Harley’s mouth fell agape. “I… yeah. It did.”

“So, from a young age, you were under the impression that you were unworthy, unlovable, and flawed.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And I’m guessing you’ve been a perfectionist growing up?”

Harley nodded. “Almost crippling so. I… I can’t handle doing anything wrong. It’s like… the feeling of disappointing someone gives me this incessant itch in my skin, like it’s sinful. And I can’t… it makes me feel like I’m a failure. Knowing that someone whose opinion matters to me is disappointed in me… that’s… that’s the worst feeling imaginable.”

“So your need to be forgiven is also a little selfish.”

“It’s not! It’s not.”

“But it is,” she said. “Because you want to rid yourself of the guilt.”

He stared at his lap. “I never thought of it like that.”

“Maybe consider earning his forgiveness, not to get the weight off of your chest, but to rebuild the relationship that you clearly cherish and prove to yourself that you are capable of recovery.”

Harley gulped a dry gulp. “I’ll try.”

.-~*~-.

“And then Jocelyn went on my spot so it looked like  _ I  _ was wrong, but  _ she  _ was the one who was standing on  _ my  _ spot.”

Harley nodded, head spinning. “And Jocelyn is the one with brown hair that always wears Crocs?”

“No, she’s the one with the black hair and three dogs. Cory Derrymouth is the one with brown hair and always wears Crocs,” Abby corrected, annoyance evident in her voice. “So then Emma Lee told her that she was standing in my spot…”

“Oh, Emma Lee! You went to her birthday party.”

“Yeah,” Abby said flaty. “But Jocelyn said that it was  _ her  _ spot and they started arguing and Ms. DiMarco had to come over and tell Jocelyn that it  _ was  _ my spot, and so it all worked out and Jocelyn was really mad.”

“Oh,” Harley said, trying to keep an interested smile. Ever since he had gotten back, he felt lost with Abby. Months of blooming friendships and moments that built up to where she was now were lost on him, and he didn’t know any of them, and it wasn’t like he could stop and ask for a recap.

He  _ knew  _ that Peter would know every single one of her friends by name and also know every little fact about them that differentiated them in these long-winded rambles, but he couldn’t ask Peter for help because he was on his own and he needed to do it himself.

That didn’t mean he didn’t desperately wish he could.

It crumpled his confidence like an oily paper bag. To know that he, her big brother, couldn’t even follow a simple conversation about her day? It was crushing.

But he plastered a smile, and asked questions, and tried to file all the little facts in the back of his brain, and tried to not blur the details of “Mason Monteith who always wears  _ Legend of Zelda _ t-shirts” and “Brayden Montigue who has a  _ Animal Crossing _ backpack” as he nodded along.

.-~*~-.

“Have you ever considered that you were too overly-dependent?” 

“What?” Harley asked, taken aback.

“Did you ever feel like your happiness relied on the happiness of others? The praise of others?” She shifted in her seat. “Did you ever find your worth being not self-sufficient?”

“I…” Harley stared out the window in shock. “I never thought about it like that.”

“Did you find yourself constantly searching for the acceptance of others?”

“I… yes. I did. Constantly. That’s why I…” His mouth felt dry. “That’s why I started drinking. And partying. And hooking up with strangers. Having people care about me, even if it was temporary, it… it felt good. It felt good to be needed.”

“Was it being needed or being used?”

Harley wrung out his knuckles. “I… I don’t know.”

“But you do. You do know.”

“I just wanted to feel like I mattered because I had nothing. I lost everything and it was the only thing I had control of.”

“Did you really have control?”

Harley blinked quickly. “No. I didn’t. But I liked to pretend I did. At least in the bedroom, I could…” He bit the inside of his mouth. “Fuck, I… I just… it was easier.”

“But you said you stopped that behavior?”

“I did, but I never… I just… I still was…”

“With Peter? Did you still feel like you were trying to prove yourself to him? To make yourself good enough for him?”

Harley nodded, hands clammy. “Yeah. I did.”

“How do you feel now that he isn’t a part of your life?”

He felt a sharp ache in his heart. “It’s hard.”

“And?”

“And it hurts. And… and it makes me mad. And makes me feel empty. And makes me feel like I’m missing a part of myself. And it makes me feel…” he stopped. “It makes me feel lighter.”

“How so?”

“Because I… I’m thinking about me.”

She smiled. “That’s good.”

“I still miss him, but I’m not… for the first time, it’s only me that can…”

“That can help you?” she finished.

“Yeah.” He took a shaky breath. “It’s like… it’s like I was depending on him for happiness. And he… his coddling came from care but it was holding me back from finding my own progress. I think we both cared too much and we were keeping each other from getting better. And I… I know I can’t blame him. I would… I’ve done that too much. But I need to… it’s on me too. I was relying too much on his support and used his love as a crutch and forgot how to… how to take care of myself.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

He looked up, eyes glittering with realization. “It gives me clarity.”

.-~*~-.

“Can we get olives on the pizza?”

Harley raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You hate olives.”

“No I don’t.”

Harley nodded, perplexed. “You wouldn’t even let them on your pizza because you said they tainted the cheese.”

“That was before Peter made quinoa salad with it.”

Harley’s face contorted in confusion more. “You hate quinoa.  _ And  _ feta cheese.”

“Well when Peter made it, it was really good. He said you had to try new things or you’ll never learn.”

Harley’s jaw clenched. “Right. That’s great. I’ll order it with olives.”

“Thanks!”

.-~*~-.

“Tell me about your week.”

“Well, it hasn’t even been a full week since we’ve last seen each other.”

She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Harley just nodded and pulled out his journal, running his finger over the leather edge for comfort. He flipped open the first page, a grid where he colored in squares. “After our last session it was a green and grey. Thursday was a purple and grey. Yesterday was a blue and yellow. Today is shaping up to be a yellow and orange.”

The colors could mean many things, but to Harley they meant:

Pink: Happy, Red: Angry/Upset, Orange: Average/Content, Yellow: Active/Productive, Green: Tired, Blue: Sad, Purple: Unproductive, Grey: Empty, and Black: Depressed

It kept him organized and it was satisfying to see the squares fill themselves in a neat little line. 

“Why was yesterday blue?” she asked.

“Abby wanted meat and three, and meat and three reminds me of him.”

“But it was also yellow?” 

“I got a lot of school work done and finished some rough schematics for my prosthesis project.”

“That’s good,” she praised. 

“Yeah. It was one of my good things in my list.”

She smiled. “What are some other things on your lists?”

“After our last meeting, I did the dishes. And I brushed my teeth before I went to bed.” 

She sat up straighter. “You did the dishes? How did that go?”

“I had sound dampening earbuds in, so I couldn’t hear the dishes clink against each other.”

She nodded. “That’s still progress. That’s still an accomplishment.”

“Yeah. It is.”

.-~*~-.

“Hey, can you help me with this…”

As Abby’s placed a dainty hand on his shoulder, a light shock surged in the spot.

“Oops, sorry. Socks and carpet. You know how it… hey. Are you okay?”

Harley’s body was rigid, his grip on his knuckles nearly breaking his bones. “Call Tony.”

“What?”

“Call Tony!” Harley yelled. “You’re in New York. You’re safe. You’re at home. You’re not there,” Harley muttered to himself.

“I-I don’t know your password,” Abby stuttered.

Harley placed his finger on the home button, trying to focus on his breathing.

“Tony? It’s Abby. Harley is freaking out.”

“Give me the phone,” Harley commanded.

With a shaky hand, Abby passed the phone to him.

“Hey bud,” Tony said calmly. “What’s going on?”

“The shock. It… there was a shock and I… I…”

“What kind of shock?” Tony asked.

“J-just static. Nothing crazy it just…”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s lightning or a spark, if it upset you, then that’s what matters.”

“It shouldn’t have to, it shouldn’t have, I don’t, I can’t…”

“Hey hey hey. It’s alright. Just give yourself a moment. Okay?”

Abby watched with horror in her wide eyes as Harley took ragged breaths.

“You’re gonna be alright. Okay? You’re gonna be alright.”

.-~*~-.

“I got triggered again. It’s been… it had been a couple days and I thought I… but I did. And it was in front of Abby.”

“Can you tell me what it was?”

“It was just a little static but…”

“But?”

“But when I… when… she would electrocute me. Sometimes it would just be little shocks but sometimes she’d do it until I’d convulse or pass out. Usually, I’d hope for the unconsciousness. At least then I wouldn’t have to…” his breathing quickened.

“Stay with me. You’re safe. Focus on my voice.”

Harley took long drags of air.

“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned about your time there. That’s a big step. I’m proud of you.” She noticed his eyes glaze over as his body began to settle. “No, stay with me. Focus on my voice. Try to keep moving.”

Her attempts to keep him from losing himself were nearly futile, but Harley forced himself out of the comfort of nothingness that he so desperately craved.

“Good. That’s good.”

As the roar pounding through his eardrums began to dissipate, Harley looked up again, hyperaware of his surroundings. “Sorry, I… I don’t what came over me.”

“You did exactly what you needed to. You stayed grounded and you stayed present.”

“Oh.”

“How do I face my triggers?” 

Dr. Carlyle looked up from her notes. “Well, it’s not going to be easy, but first and foremost, you’ve gotta learn how to ground yourself, just like you did right now. You didn’t give in. You stayed present, and look at you now. You’re listening to me and you’re evening nodding in understanding. What did you do just now that you haven’t done before?”

“I… I didn’t run from the pain.”

She nodded. “Good. And?”

“And I focused on your voice. And what I was feeling now. Like this loveseat. It’s really cushy but the embroidery on the cushion is bumpy and my cot there didn’t have that so I knew that I couldn’t be there because I’m here.”

“That’s all great. Now, I know you can’t do this with everything, but you’re going to want to keep avoiding your major triggers when you can. However, I know it’s making it very difficult to live your normal life with some of your smaller triggers, specifically your auditory ones. How are you managing those?”

“I think I’m getting more used to them. The more I cook, the more I can associate the sounds with something other than…” He trailed off.

“That’s good. New associations, new memories, those are all great steps to recovery,” she praised. She glanced at the clock. “How about we end a little early today. Does that sound good with you?”  
Harley nodded gratefully. “That sounds great.”

.-~*~-.

_ Clap clap clap. _

Harley looked up, confused. “What?”

Abby, teary eyed, lip jutted out, stared back at Harley.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”

_ Clap clap clap. _

“I don’t know what that means,” Harley said, trying to stay calm.

“Of course you don’t! Because you’re not him! You’re not Peter!” Abby shouted.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just calm down…”   


“Don’t tell me to calm down! Or tell me that things are okay! Don’t stand there and pretend to listen and get it because you  _ don’t! _ You don’t get it!”

Harley tried to step forward to console her but she stepped back. 

“You were gone! You were gone for so long.”

“Abby, you know I…”

“When Mama died, I was all alone. You didn’t come visit me for  _ months _ and I thought you left me! Just like Dad! I thought you, you didn’t  _ want  _ me and I, I, I started to believe it because why would anyone want  _ me _ ? And then you left  _ again _ and you didn’t come back. You never came back. You keep acting like you came back but you haven’t, and I don’t want to keep pretending that you did! Because you didn’t! You didn’t come back for me. You didn’t come back after you left. You didn’t come back to me and Peter and then Peter  _ left.  _ He left me too! And no one… I just want him back. I want Peter back because at least I know he  _ will.” _

“Abby…”

“I trusted you! You’re supposed to be my big brother! You’re supposed to love me!” She wiped away her tears that streamed down her cheeks. “Peter loved me when you were gone and he loved me when you couldn’t love me when you got back and he loves me now so I don’t know why you can’t just… why you don’t love me enough to fix it. To get Peter back. To get better.”

“I’m trying,” Harley said, biting his lip to hold back his own tears.

“You’re not trying hard enough! Why can’t you just be better? Why can’t you and Peter just be better? Why can’t I… why can’t we just…” she stopped, taking trembling breaths. “Deep breaths. Deep breaths,” she whispered to herself.

“I’m sorry, Abby.”

“I just want things to be better.”

“I know. I do too.” He kneeled next to her. “And I’m trying to get better and I  _ know _ that Peter is trying to get better but I… we…”

“Need time,” Abby finished. “Why can’t you have less time? Why does it have to take so much time? Why can’t it just be… why does it take so long?”

“I don’t know. It just takes time,” Harley said with a shaking head.

“I miss him..”

Harley bit the inside of his mouth. “I miss him too.”

“Does he know that?”

Harley looked up. “What?”

“Does he know that you miss him?”

Harley rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t exactly tell him…”

“He needs to know. That you miss him.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Harley stated.

“Do you love him?”

Harley froze but tentatively nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“Does he know  _ that? _ ”

Harley sighed. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter now. He doesn’t need my love.”

“Because he needs his own love first.”

Harley nodded. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Abby collapsed into Harley’s chest and sobbed. “I just want everything to go back to normal.”

“I know. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this therapist is very blunt, but I think that's what Harley needs. 
> 
> If you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	4. It’s Gonna Be Hell (but no one said it’d be easy)

Routines were hell, and bad habits don’t break, and that was something that Peter was coming to learn the hard way.

He thought that maybe being away from Harley would relieve him of his constant anxiety, but the separation had only made him grow more weary from the never-ending worry that he had for Harley.

Now that he no longer saw him everyday, he didn’t know if he was progressing or if he had a rough day or a good day or if he needed help or if he was coping or if he was falling into his own bad habits. It was so tempting to seek him out when he was at his therapy sessions at the Compound. The Compound was a big place, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t “coincidentally and totally organically” run into Harley after a session.

But he couldn’t. Besides the fact that Harley went during Peter’s school hours, he also knew that he couldn’t face him. Not yet. Not where they were.

Peter didn’t  _ want  _ to worry about Harley. His worry ate him alive and it ripped away his focus and it left a heavy burden on his chest. 

It wasn’t until he was in the lab with Tony did he realize how much it was tearing him apart when he felt the words rip out of his throat without thinking.

“How’s Harley doing? He doing okay?”

Tony set down his soderer and turned to Peter.

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just… I was just wondering,” Peter said.

“He’s fine.”

Peter nodded and turned back to his suit. “Okay.” There was a grueling long pause before he couldn’t stop himself from turn back around and asking, “But what do you mean by that exactly? Like what do you mean by fine?”

“Peter. He’s fine. He’s had some rough days, had some good days. Either way, he’s going to therapy, and he’s working on himself. You should focus on yourself too.”

“I am! I’m… focusing on myself.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes. I am. I… am.”

“I thought you were mad at Harley,” Tony stated confused.

“I am!” Peter said. “Doesn’t mean I can’t… wonder how he’s doing. Or worry about him. Or miss him.”

“You don’t have to take care of him anymore. You’ve gotta take care of you.”

“It’s just… I can’t just let him go,” Peter said, setting down his suit.

“You don’t have to let him go. But you’ve also got to let him grow without you and you’ve got to learn how to grow without him. You two have been depending on each other for a while, even if you don’t realize it, and I think you need to start finding yourself and remember the person who you used to be before you were wrapped up in Harley.”

“And how do I do that?” Peter questioned.

Tony smiled. “You go do the thing you do best.”

.-~*~-.

Swinging through the silent air of New York was freeing. It was nearly nostalgic, a pleasure that he had lost. He had missed the thoughtless swing. The empty wind brushing against his body as he hoisted his body between skyscrapers.

He triple backflipped to the ground, taking time to leisurely walk through the city, taking no mind to the flurry of photos being taken.

For the first time in a very long time, he stuck to the little guy.

He helped a nice elderly man in a fedora carry his groceries into his condo and walked a woman in a sequin dress home after a long night of clubbing and pet every dog he caught sight of. He stopped a grand theft bicycle and webbed up some homophobic assholes crowding behind a gay bar and even stopped a robbery on that fancy hat store that May and him used to make fun of on the way to their favorite Korean BBQ place.

It was nice. It was nice helping people. It was nice making a little change. It was nice being the good guy.

He could get used to this again.

.-~*~-.

The first Saturday without Abby was hard. Peter sat in front of the television, warm tears falling down his cheeks as the taste of meat lovers pizza felt like acid on his tongue and the bright colors of rainbow ponies blended into a mishmash of neon light. 

He missed her. He missed this. He missed him. He missed the way things were before. The anger had subsided and he had shifted into a deep emptiness, a hole residing where they had once occupied and consumed his life.

The second Saturday, he didn’t wallow and watch. He went on an early patrol and crashed a Spider-Man themed birthday party and entertained a bunch of six year olds with tricks and flips. There was a little girl there that reminded him of her, but he shook the feeling and focused on the now.

Leading up to that second Saturday, Peter attempted to start living his life on his own. Though the weight of Harley and Abby laid heavy on his conscience, he focused on his own progress and had even managed to go three days without slipping away.

He was rested. The exhaustion of his late nights with Harley were finally catching up to him, and he found himself out like a light after he finished his homework. He was taking the time to take care of himself. He was eating full meals without feeling the guilty wave wash over him as Harley’s distant eyes watched him as he struggled to eat his bowl of fruit.

MJ had gotten him into bubble baths, and lucky for him, his room at the Compound had a large bath. He had an array of salts and oils and soaps and bombs, all the things for a perfect winding down.

He had dabbled in mindfulness, something that he once had scoffed at in therapy. He did it during his more quiet patrols, particularly digging those raisin exercises. Who knew how thought provoking eating raisins could be?

The third Saturday without Abby, he met up with Ned and MJ. They told Alexa to play pop hits from 2008 and they played Cards Against Humanity with expansion packs they didn’t even know existed until Mr. Stark had pulled them from the recreation room cupboard. They got hot dogs from that cart near the pigeon bench (the bench that all the pigeons crowded) and feasted with cans of Minute Maid pink lemonade.

The week before the third Saturday, he hadn’t checked out at all. He didn’t get in any unnecessary tizzies with criminals and he aced that Calculus test and he smiled and almost forgot about everything that was weighing him down. It felt nice to smile. He wasn’t fully there, but he was getting there. 

He felt fuller. With several nights of full rest, a stomach filled nearly to the brim, a constant intake of exercise and water, he didn’t feel that hum of dehydrated exhaustion and lethargy. 

He felt lighter. He thought about them a lot, but the space had given him time to focus on himself and give himself an emotional breather. He didn’t stare at his phone, waiting for updates on Harley, and he didn’t pull himself apart everyday trying to build someone else up. He was healing. He was finding himself again.

.-~*~-.

Peter clutched his bouquet of lilies, taking a sharp breath of crisp air.

The cemetery was just how he remembered it. The melancholic gloom of cracked gravestones and eerie pops of color from flowers strewn on the dead grass was oh too familiar to Peter.

His breath hitched as he approached the headstone that he had gone to for years, and eyed the one that he hadn’t visited since…

“Hey, May. Ben. It’s… it’s been a while. It’s been… I should’ve come sooner. I know I should’ve, but I just… it was too hard. It was… it’s no excuse though. I should’ve come sooner. I did with Ben when he... “ He smiled tearily. “You guys must be happy to see each other again, huh? I’m happy for you. I’m happy that you… that you all get to be together. A part of me hopes that you’re up there somewhere looking down to me, watching over me, but it’s… it’s hard sometimes to think that… it’s hard.”

His lip quivered. “I, uh, I’ve gone through a lot since you’ve been gone. It’s been a lot. I… I miss you.” He bobbed his head, warm tears bubbling in his eyes. “I miss you a lot. I miss you so much. Everyday it gets harder for me to remember things. I have the videos and the pictures but it’s not the same as you being here. As you being with me. As you… I miss you so much.”  
He laughed a wet chuckle. “I could really use a famous Parker group hug right now. I could’ve used a lot of them, actually. I’d love to have one of those little dance parties we’d do in the living room, the ones you used to make me do when I needed to blow off some steam that always led to me needing to use my inhaler. I’d love to be with you and hear your voices and feel you with me and just have you here because I miss you so much and I… I really needed you. I’ve really needed you a lot. But I’m… I’m figuring it out. Or at least, I’m trying really hard to. Trying to make you proud. Trying to prove myself. Great responsibility and all that.”

“I love you so much. I love you and I’m going to love you forever and I… thank you for everything. I’ll be coming more often. I promise.”

He kissed the palm of his hand and pressed it to the cold stone. “I love you, May. I hope you’re happy wherever you are.”    
  


.-~*~-.

Tony ran his hand over his face as he groaned, exhausted.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

“Another one of SI’s projects has been leaked. We have to push for production because it hasn’t been patented or even close to being perfected and ready to be released, but now we have to rush so that our competitors don’t take it over before we can claim it.”

“That’s the seventh one that’s been leaked,” Peter stated.

“Yes. I know,” Tony said 

“Do you know where the leak…”

“It was Harley,” Tony interrupted.

Peter froze. “What?”

“When he was…” he motioned with his hand, “a lot of classified information was tortured out of him. Ever since, it has been leaked, the severity of the leaks growing more and more each time.” He sighed. “I think whoever is doing this is holding back the biggest hits for last, and they’re only gonna get worse, and cause even more damage if we don’t…” He sighed again.

“Have you tried to ask…”

“How can I? How can I ask the guy, the, the kid who can’t even hear his name without…” He snorted. “I mean, we were giving him time. We were so focused on his recovery that we didn’t even, we couldn’t. He’s the only one who knows… and of course we could’ve forced it, but can you imagine the mental repercussions if we… so we waited. We waited and waited and he didn’t… and now we’ve just gotta wait. We’ve gotta wait until he’s ready to tell us on his own.”

“He can’t even talk about what he told her?”

“You know he can’t!” Tony snapped. “I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…”

“Stressful. And a detriment to your billion dollar tech corporation.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you…”

“You’re seventeen, Peter. And you… you’re going through enough trauma and you’re already… you and Harley… I couldn’t put this on your plate.”

“And you can now because…?”

“Because I can tell that you’re making a lot of progress. And you’re healthier and you’re happier and you’re… you can handle it.”

“Thanks. That’s… great.” 

“Yeah, well, there’s still lots to deal with so I…” Tony’s phone rang. “One second.” He answered, pulling the phone to his ear. “This is Stark.”

_ “Mr. Stark? This is Dr. Carlyle. There’s been a breakthrough with Harley regarding his kidnapping case. I think it’d be best if you come speak to me in person.” _

Peter’s legs felt wobbly, too weak to hold up his body. He fell into a chair, bracing himself for the impact.

“Thank you. I’m on my way.” Tony looked to Peter. “You heard that.”

“Of course I did,” Peter stated obviously.

“I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later. Alright?”

Peter nodded. “Okay.”

Tony was nearly out the door when he turned around again. “Later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo. Finally addressing some of the repercussions to the kidnapping and all that happened. Also,,, progress!!! Filler, but progress!!
> 
> If you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	5. You Don’t Have To Be Happy At All (to be happy you’re alive)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of torture and choking

“Abby’s birthday is coming up and it’s her first one without…” Harley trailed off. “I feel like… like I can never stop being reminded of everything she’s missing. What Mama’s...” He stopped.

“How so?” she asked.

“Every time there’s a holiday or a big event or a big accomplishment or just anything that she would’ve… it’s like, sometimes I forget that she’s… and that’s horrible, right? That I could forget that she’s… but then I remember and I think about all I’ve done and how she’d feel if she… it’s almost been a year. And that’s… so much has happened this year, and I’ve been so… distracted.”

“You’ve had a hectic few months,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

“I just feel so guilty for feeling so apathetic about it. It’s… I don’t… it just feels so normal now.”

“You’re coming to accept your loss.”

“But, I… does that mean that I just don’t care anymore?” Harley asked, struggling to find the words.

“You  _ do _ care. You wouldn’t be so conflicted if you didn’t care. What you’re feeling? That fond nostalgia and warm familiarity you feel when you think of your mother without the aching pain of grief? That’s acceptance. That’s healthy. That’s supposed to happen.”

“I just feel like I’m forgetting her,” Harley said.

“You aren’t. You’re sharing her memory with every one of these new moments that you wish you could spend with her. You’re honoring her with every step you take to recovery. She may not be here anymore, but you let her live on through you and the choices you make.”

Harley’s eyes prickled with tears. “I feel like I’ve let her down.”

“You haven’t. You haven’t let her down. The fact that you’re putting in this effort and want to be better? That shows strength. Everyone goes through rough times and makes bad decisions. What they do after, though? That’s what shows true character.” She leaned forward. “So, tell me. What have you been doing?”

Harley paused. “I haven’t drank in months and I’ve been starting to get on a normal sleeping schedule and I’ve started to eat more frequently.”

“Uh huh.” She motioned for him to continue.

“I’ve been trying to rebuild my relationship with Abby and I’ve been reintroducing myself to triggering sounds. When I took a bath, I was able to put my hair into the water. I haven’t tried to…” His words dissipated.

“That’s good. That’s very good. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I’m not,” Harley said simply.

“That’s alright too. But know that those are things you should be proud of.”

“It doesn’t make up for all that I’ve done,” Harley said.

“It doesn’t have to,” Dr. Carlyle stated. “You don’t have to meet some quota to prove yourself worthy of recovery. Of happiness.”

“I just feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve happiness. You deserve love. You deserve life.”

Harley squeezed his hands. 

“I know you don’t believe it now, but you do.”

.-~*~-.

“How is your online schooling going?”

Harley ran his fingers through the kinetic sand in his lap. “It’s good. It’s actually… it’s really good. I like having a new routine. It… it makes things feel a little normaler.”

“That’s great,” she praised.

“Abby and I are trying to… it’s getting better. I’m listening to her, I’m being more present, I’m trying to get back to the old… and she seems to be responding well to that. I’ve missed us just…” He paused. “We’ve got a big age difference. Eight years, actually. Almost nine. And that age difference is… it was really easy being the cool big brother to her because I was always so much older. It was easy being someone to look up to because she just… she idolized me. Before she was… when she was my little brother, it was… I mean, I always knew she was different, but so was I. We were both… we were both different.”

He took a breath. “I thought it would be like that. Her looking up to me. Us getting along. Me… getting it. Getting her. Dinner chats and movie nights and homework work sessions and… and just… I know that’s what she wishes it can be. And I know I do too, but it’s… we’re both different. I’m not the guy that she sees as her hero and she’s… well she’s had to grow up, and I didn’t get to see that.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess I’m trying to catch up for everything I’ve missed.”

“That’s all you can do,” Dr. Carlyle said.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

.-~*~-.

“Tell me about your week so far.”

“I feel very strong,” Harley said.

“And why do you feel strong?” she asked.

“Because I faced some of my triggers,” he explained.

“That’s wonderful. Tell me how it went.”

“I made dinner without my sound dampeners, and even though I had to put down some towels so I wouldn’t hear the bowls hit the counter, I managed to make quinoa salad without getting triggered by the knife sounds or the spoon in the bowl.”

“That’s amazing!”

Harley bobbed his head. “And Abby accidentally called me by my name and I… nothing happened. I mean, my muscles got a little tense but I didn’t… so I’ve been having her call me by my name more. Try to get me used to it."

“Do you want me to do that as well?” she asked.

“That’d be great.”

“Alright.” She took a note.

“I started work on my prosthesis project and, on the first day, I was able to get half an hour in before I had to put in my headphones and crank my music so I wouldn’t hear the metal on metal. The next day I managed another ten minutes, and then another fifteen the day after. I also used a soderer which was… the oven and the stove have been cutting it close but something like the soderer hit close to home, but I used it and I’m... I’m really proud of myself for using it.” Harley smiled softly at his hands.

“I almost took a bath. I say almost because it wasn’t a full bath. I got up to about my torso and then I just sat in the water, sponging my upper half. But I… I got the bottom half which is good. Haven’t done that yet.” He nodded. “Progress.”

“That is progress. That’s amazing progress,” Dr. Carlyle praised.

“It hasn’t been all easy, though. My sweater shrunk in the wash and it was real tight on my neck. Made me panic for a bit.”

“Did you get through?” she asked.

“Yeah, I did. I, I was out for a bit, but it wasn’t as long as it usually was. Abby was actually able to bring me back.” He clenched his jaw for a moment. “She’s been real strong. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Well, Harley, I think that you’re making good progress. This is really great. You should be proud of yourself.”

Harley smiled. “I am.”

.-~*~-.

“The court hearing for the custody case is coming up. Originally, Peter and I were going for joint custody, but when I was gone, he continued the process on his own. He did the screening and the interviews and all the hard hoops. And now I… now I’m doing it without him.”

“Do you feel like you are ready for that commitment?” she questioned.

“I’m committed to Abby. I would never… she’s my life. I just… what if she doesn’t want me?”

“You’ve said that you two have been connecting better than ever recently. You’ve been dedicating ample time with her and have been understanding the person she became when you were gone.  You’ve been rebuilding that trust. And… and she’s your sister. She will never hold that grudge forever.”

“I just… I don’t know how to do it without him,” Harley admitted.

“You’ve been doing it without him,” she said.

“I just feel like I’m betraying everything that we… that he… because he…”

“Take your time.”

“I’m not ready to face him.”

“You don’t have to,” Dr. Carlyle reassured. “You’re going to do fine. You love her and you’ve proven that you’re a good guardian, even with the rough patches. Every parent has them. Show them that. Show them you. That will be enough.”

.-~*~-.

“I think today, we should talk about forgiveness.”

Harley looked to her with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to take today’s session, to find forgiveness in yourself. To say the things you wish you could say, and then forgive.”

Harley licked his lips. “How do I do that?”

“Let’s start with someone you may have never taken a chance to forgive. Your mother.”

Harley tensed. “I had been so torn when Mama passed and I let my anger settle in ways it shouldn’t’ve and I was… I was mad that she had to go so soon. I was mad that her death ripped my life away from me. I was mad that when she was gone, I lost everything I knew and had to start fresh, and Peter he… at least he stayed in the city he grew up in and had all his friends. I had… I had nobody. I didn’t even have Abby. And I… I forgive Mama for not bein’ perfect. I forgive her for never letting me go out with my friends because she didn’t want me getting into trouble and for being overprotective after Dad left and for having a quick temper and for not listening to me when I needed to be heard.”

“Tell her. Tell her you forgive her.”

Harley choked up. “Mama. I forgive you.”

“Good. Who else do you need to forgive?”

“I forgive Peter for holding me back from progress even if he didn’t mean it. He only wanted what was best for me, even if he didn’t know how to give it to me. I forgive him for leaving. It wasn’t healthy for us to be together and I realize it now. I forgive him for leaving. He had to take care of himself and I had to take care of myself, and without him leaving, I wouldn’t be where I am today. It hurt, it stung, and I miss him like crazy, but I… I’m okay, and I’m glad that he’s finding himself too. I forgive him for breaking up with me. I still love him and I don’t think I’m gonna stop, but he made the choice that I wasn’t strong enough to make.” He swallowed. “Peter. I forgive you.”

“There’s one more person you need to forgive,” she said.

He looked up, confused. “Who?”

“You.”

Harley took a deep breath, eyes glued to his hands. “I forgive myself. I forgive myself for the months I wasted drinking and partying. I forgive myself for breaking. I forgive myself for relapsing and reverting back to old habits. I forgive myself for making new bad habits. But I’m proud of myself for moving past the setbacks and coming out stronger. I forgive myself for spending weeks groveling and hurting and processing because I… I needed that time. And it’s okay that I needed that time. It’s not my fault.” He took a shaky gulp. “What I went through wasn’t my fault. I forgive myself.”

“Good. That was really good. I think we can call it a day. How does that sound?”

Harley nodded. “Yeah. I think I need some time to think.”

.-~*~-.

“I was terrified.” Harley licked his dry lips, his throat tight. “It was terrifying. I… everyday, I just thought it would… that maybe it would be the day that I… she…”

“It’s okay. Take your time,” Dr. Carlyle reassured.

“When I first got there, she lured me into this false sense of security. She was kind and gentle and calm. She gave me routine and she gave me food and all she asked in return was answers. I fought back at first but she… it was easy to give in. It was easy to do what she wanted. It was easy to believe that I could actually be safe. But then I… she wasn’t so nice anymore. I killed some people. Still, uh, still think about that a lot. I never meant to… I would never mean to… but she asked for Iron Man specs and I couldn’t… I didn’t think it’d…”

He laughed humorlessly. “I miss it sometimes. I don’t know why. I think… sometimes it… when she wasn’t torturing me, she was actually… we would talk. And she had this soft, soothing voice and we would… she would ask me questions and when I answered she would tell me that I did good, and I think I was so… so… so desperate for good that it… it mattered to me when she said that I did good. And  _ she  _ was the one that made me feel so worthless but yet she… it… how she felt started to matter. Because when I did good, she wouldn’t… and so I always wanted to be good. But then I was never good enough because I didn’t have the answers and then she’d…”

He shook his head. “You’d think it’d hurt. That I’d remember the hurt. That it would haunt me in my dreams. And I mean, yeah, it does, but it also… it doesn’t. I think I… it became so normal to me. It became routine. And I… sometimes I wait. I wait for the door to open and for her to come in and for her to…”

He smiled, almost nostalgically. “Did you know that when you’re choked for long periods of time and then are finally given air, it’s almost like getting high? Your body is just so relieved to get air that it shoots endorphins and shit. That’s so crazy. It’s crazy to think that after my sight dissipated into black splotchy darkness, the air gone, and my face going purple from how hard I was choking, and then feeling… euphoric. The best I could ever feel. At least, that’s how it felt.”

He took a dry swallow. “I… sometimes I miss that feeling too. It’s tempting. To… but I know I can’t. That I shouldn’t. That that is dangerous and reckless and yet… it… I don’t know.”

He fiddled with his thumb. “She asked a lot of stuff. Usually stuff about Stark Industries. Projects, works in progress, equations and formulas and access codes. She wrote it all down, but there’s only so much I knew. It got to a point where I was trying to spill as many secrets I had just so she wouldn’t…” He trailed off. “I don’t know what was worse. Being burnt or being electrocuted. They’re more similar than you’d think. It’s a searing pain. And once the searing pain morphs into the numb pain, it’s almost bearable. She did it too long once. Electrocuting. I was twitching and seizing the whole night. I pulled the muscles in my neck and she had to put me into a neck brace. She was nice like that. She would wrap me up after she… at least she’d do that. She took care of me after she… that was nice.”

He clenched his jaw. “I, uh, I know people really want me to tell them more about her, but it’s been really hard. This is the first time I’ve been able to… without… so write this down, and write it all down because I don’t know the next time I’ll be able to do this.”

Dr. Carlyle fumbled to get her laptop, rendered speechless.

“She has bright green eyes. She has blonde hair, but has brown roots. She keeps it in a bun most of the time, but I can tell it’s long. But it’s also thin. She looks young, but not too young. Maybe late twenties, early thirties. She has a very angular face. Strong jaw, strong cheekbones. Bony. Her fingers are long and slender and so is her nose. Very thin and long nose. She has freckles on her nose and on her forehead but not on her cheeks. She also has a beauty mark on the right side of her chin. My right, not hers. Her ears are pierced. She’s about five foot seven and she has heavy footsteps. She has a scar on her lip and it makes one side of her cupid’s bow taller than the other. She is a thin woman and doesn’t have much of a defining shape. She’s not particularly fit but she does have strength in her calves. She has a soft voice, but it’s low. The timbre is dark and mellow. She has a slight accent. It’s mostly on the “ah” noises. Almost sounds British, but not recent. Maybe she grew up there. She uh… she...” Harley’s body went rigid, his eyes glassy and distant. It wasn’t long before he was completely catatonic.

Dr. Carlyle’s mouth, still agape in shock, stared at the teen. “You did good. You did so good.”

Harley didn’t reply. He stared at the door, blank and empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uhhhhh yeah. that happened.
> 
> if you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	6. You Just Don't Give Up (so don't give up on me)

Harley stared at his phone that burned a hole into his hand. His finger hovered over the call button, but seeing Peter’s smiling face in his contact photo staring back at him was enough to make him continue chickening out.

It had been nearly a month since they had last spoken, and to say the least, it wasn’t the smoothest goodbye, and they both knew that.

_ But  _ it  _ had  _ been nearly a month. Surely he… because Harley? He was fine. Totally fine. Totally… not great. Not awesome. But he… surely he can face Peter. Surely he’s grown enough to… it’s been enough time, right? Right?

“Fuck it,” he whispered, clicking the call button, the ringing sending waves of panic through him.

“Hello?” Peter asked, confused.

“Peter! I uh, CPS is having a check-in soon, so I was wondering if we could meet up sometime? Maybe grab a bite and work out our story. Make sure we’re on the same page?”

There’s a pause on the other side of the line. 

“Peter?”

“Where were you thinking?” Peter finally asked.

“Abby’s got me hooked on that cafe you introduced her to. The one with the nut free chocolate croissants. There sound good? Tomorrow after you get out of school?”

Peter hesitated. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Before Harley could get another word in, the call ended.

“I’ve… we’ve gotta clean,” Harley said, getting up. “Abby! Can you tidy up your room?”

Abby nodded, giving a sarcastic salute before heading to her room.

“Okay. Okay. What do I do? Uh… dishes!” 

.-~*~-.

Harley’s leg bounced anxiously as he sat at a table in the small cafe, scraping at a bread bowl full of mac and cheese.

His head snapped up as he heard the chime of the door, Peter entering, fingers gripping at the sleeves of his oversized sweater, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Peter contemplated waving, but settled for a lopsided, awkward grin and a raised hand.

He slipped into the metal chair and folded his hands on the table, eyeing Harley’s lunch with surprise.

“Do you want to order? Because I can… I’ll wait.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll be back.”

Harley sipped at his lukewarm water restlessly, though the water did nothing to settle his dry throat. When he returned to the table after refilling the water, Peter sat there, alternating his hesitant nibbles on the cheese and jam danishes he had stacked on his plate.

Harley sat down, and stared at him as he chewed quietly. “So… how are you doing?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “So, that’s what we’re going with? The ‘act like everything is totally normal and there’s not the biggest elephant in the room’ route?”

“Well, what am I supposed to say?” Harley asked, voice already raising with edge.

Peter set his danish down. “I don’t know. I don’t know what you should say. All I know is what you’ve already said.”

Harley laughed dryly. “Oh wow, we’re already going there.”

“Of course we’re already going there, Harley, I mean what the hell do you expect me to…” Peter cut himself off, eyes wide. He stared intently at Harley, waiting for what he figured was the inevitable reaction of trigger induced panic, but Harley just looked at him, annoyed.

“What?” 

“You…” Peter trailed off. “Huh. That’s new.”

Harley softened. “Yeah. I… I’ve made a lot of progress. I mean,” he motioned to the busy cafe they sat in. “Obviously.”

Peter looked around, bobbing his head in understanding. “I hadn’t even…” Peter swallowed a lump of a gulp. “That’s really great. It is.”

“Thanks,” Harley said dryly.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Peter finally said.

Harley let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah. We are.”

As Peter’s eyes met Harley, his heart clenched in a familiar tug of desire and longing. It was one that he had almost forgotten. “I was really pissed.”

“I…”

“No, just, let me finish,” Peter interjected. “When you came back after… I had just gone through absolute hell. When it was just me and Abby, I… she could tell you, I wasn’t… she didn’t see everything, and she was never meant to. I was trying to be a good parent, and I was trying to be just a parent and I didn’t know how to do that. I mean, how the hell could I have? I’m a kid, and then all of a sudden I have this kid and I… I wasn’t like you. You read your parenting books and did all that research and I… that wasn’t me. You’re her brother. You love her and you loved her so much that you… and that wasn’t me. I didn’t ask for her. I never did.

“It was only then did I really get what May and Ben did for me. For taking me in. It wasn’t smooth sailing all the time. There were some days that I absolutely resented Abby. It was just one more thing that was on my overflowing plate of grief and hurt and I couldn’t… and how shitty is that? How shitty am I? To be treating a child like she’s a punishment. But, some days it was hard to see it… because… I mean, shit, Harley. You got kidnapped. And on top of all of that, I had a kid who wasn’t my kid and I…”

Peter shook his head. “But, now I know that Abby is the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. She is the strongest person I have ever met. She is intelligent and kind and works her damn hardest every second of the day. She inspired me to be my best person, and when I was crumbling, she was there, lifting me up, even when she didn’t know it.

“When you came back, I finally thought that she would get the life she deserves. That she would get the big brother who could love her in the way that I always would but could never show right. She would get a parent who would know how to make her favorite dinners and could sing with her as she practiced for her musical and who watched her grow up instead of the guy who had to order takeout with borrowed money to get her food on the table and didn’t understand anything she referenced when it didn’t happen in the last month and could never be enough for her.

“But then you came back and you weren’t here. And I guess I had these high hopes of normalcy that I actually thought we could go back and we’d… but that’s not how it was and it never would be and I… I had to get used to that new reality. So, I became the doting boyfriend. I mothered you and I smothered you and I tried to fix you because I thought you needed to be fixed so everything could be… because I just loved you so much, and I wanted you to be you again. I wanted you to just be okay, but I know now that you’d never get better when I was there holding you back, and I… neither would I.”

Peter pursed his lips, sucking in a shaky breath. “Because I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t been for a long time. When you were gone, I was a complete wreck. It was like someone had taken my heart out and ripped it to shreds and threw away the remains. I wasn’t whole. And I was… I was doing everything I could to keep it together for Abby and I was falling into dissociative states for days, and I was just so damn angry all the time. I was letting it out when I…” Peter made a vague motion that Harley understood as Spider-Man, “and I wasn’t… I lost myself along the way. When I was trying to be the right person for her and the right person for you, I forgot how to be me. And honestly? I don’t know if I know that yet, and I don’t know if the person I am is the person is who I’m supposed to be, but what I do know is that I… I know that I’m not ready for anything.

“And I’m sorry if you are ready, but I’m not, and I’m going to be honest with you. You hurt me. You hurt me a lot, and not just from our last fight. The weeks... months that you spent isolating yourself and pretending and being negligent over your well-being, it killed me. It killed me to see you self-destruct again and to fall into new bad habits and throw away every effort that could go to your recovery. It killed me staying awake night after night with you and spending my days terrified that you’d... and I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself anymore.

“So, I left. And I left behind the one good thing in my life and left her with a guy that I couldn’t trust anymore, and I beat myself up about it for weeks, but I… as much as I couldn’t trust you, she was still yours, and she wasn’t mine. She would never be mine. And you know what? I’m not sorry for leaving, because even when I stepped away from you and got out of what can only be described as a toxic setting, I’m still trying to rebuild. And it’s not just you. I’ve been through a lot of shit that hasn’t been dealt with and I’m… I’m figuring it out.

“Shit, where was I going with this?” He gave a tentative smile. “We were never okay, I don’t think. And I don’t think we’re ever going to really be okay. But we can… what we’ve got right now, it’s not healthy, for either of us. And even though I’m not ready to rebuild, I want to be a part of Abby’s life. So can we… can we try? For Abby?”

Harley’s heart stuttered, dejected. “Yeah. We can.” He wrung his knuckles out under the table. “And I… I’ve had a lot of time to think. And a lot of time to process. And I… you were right. What you said before you… you were right. And you’re right now too. And I’m sorry for not trying harder but I’m not sorry for what happened. Yes, I could’ve communicated better and yes, I made too many excuses to avoid facing recovery, but I was also exiting a traumatic time in an already fragile state, and I think that none of us really knew what I needed.

“But I’m also sorry for it all. I’m sorry for snapping and lashing out and not letting you in. I’m sorry for the excuses and I’m sorry for using you as a crutch and pulling you down with me. I’m sorry for not realizing how much you were hurting.”

Peter shook his head, eyes glassy. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for being so wrapped up in trying to make everything normal for you that I never addressed… that I just kept avoiding…”

“No. That wasn’t you.  _ I  _ was the one avoiding. I mean, shit, that’s all I fuckin’ did. But once I was forced to face it all, it… I got a lot of clarity. Therapy actually helped a lot, even though I hated it at first. But, I learned a lot about myself, and not just about…

“I’m getting better. And I just want you to know that. That I’m getting there. I’m finally facing my triggers, but some of them, I may never be able to fully face again. If you choose to come back to my life, you have to know that I’m not going to be able to be fully back. I have had to adapt and change my life to accommodate my new life, and this new life means that sometimes I can’t handle certain noises or certain feelings. There are some things that will never be the same. And that’s… I’ll keep working on it, but I can’t promise that it’ll ever go away.

“I’ve made progress. A shit ton actually. So much, that some days I almost feel like myself again. But being myself isn’t… I can’t. But whoever I am now? Whoever I am? The guy I used to be and the guy who came out of this? That’s all you’re gonna get, and you’ve gotta accept that.”

Peter silently clenched his jaw, licking his lips, unsure of what to say. “Mr. Stark told me about what happened the other day in your session.”

“Patient confidentiality must go out the window when there’s an active kidnapping investigation, huh?” Harley said with a weak smile.

“We’re looking into the demographic that you described. We can really get somewhere with this new information,” Peter said.

“I think…” Harley gulped. “I documented everything she asked me in my journal. That should help you get a head start on damage control.” He put the journal on the table.

“You… are you sure?”

Harley nodded. “I don’t need it anymore. Represents too much. Holds me back.”

“If you’re sure.” Peter slid the journal to his side, cringing at the blood soaked cover.

“It’s a little messy,” Harley said.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Peter retorted monotonously.

Harley laughed. “I missed this.”  _ I missed you. _

“Me too,” Peter admitted. “I know we can’t… that it’ll never be… but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“Yeah. We do.”

There was a long pause as the two just stared in the other’s eyes, getting lost in a once forgotten feeling.

“So, CPS,” Harley broke the silence.

“Right. CPS. Is the apartment…”

“Yup,” he said with a nod. “Did they come when I was…”

“They did. But we had the charity retreat story for that too. And you were still keeping up your pay for the apartment, so they didn’t mind.”

“And Abby?” Harley asked.

“Not a problem. Surprisingly. I think… well, it was something along the lines of ‘not part of the program, not their problem.’”

Harley chuckled. “Sounds about right.” He sipped mindlessly at his water. “So, I guess I’m back from my retreat now. And you’re…” he trailed off. “Are you going to… I mean, if you’re not, then we’ll have to figure out what to tell her…”

“I can. I… I want to. For Abby. I think she needs some stability now that we both are… and I want to.”

“Are you sure?” Harley questioned.

“I… yeah. I think I am.”

“We’re gonna be okay,” Harley stated.

“And if we aren’t, we’re gonna try.”

Harley bit his lip, hesitant with uncertainty. “I have to tell you something.”

Peter looked up. “What?”

“While you were gone, I officially filed for guardianship, and I… I’m Abby’s legal guardian now. It… it was a lot quicker than what you were doing because I had familial ties, and I was officially next of kin now that my dad… well… you know. So… yeah. And I… you know I didn’t want to do this without you. I would never want to… because she’s… but I… but the date came up and I couldn’t back out or we would lose the chance. So I…”

Peter clenched his jaw, head hung low as he scrunched his brows at the table. “You didn’t think to call me?”

“We weren’t exactly on speaking terms.”

“But I…” he trailed off. “I understand.”

“Peter, I…”

“No. I get it. She’s your sister. I said that didn’t I? I just… I get it. She was never my…”

“Peter. You know that’s not…”

“Let’s head back to the apartment. She should be here soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this bitch really wrote a monologue huh?
> 
> peter is finally getting shit off his chest!!!! good for him!!!! (and lots of ouchies. i know)
> 
> if you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	7. We Built This House On Memories

Peter’s hands shook as he stood behind the door that he knew so well.

It took everything in Harley’s power to not grab Peter’s hand, and interlock his fingers with his with a gentle squeeze.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Harley reassured.

“She hasn’t called me since… and I haven’t seen her since… I’m a horrible parent. I don’t deserve her forgiveness.”

“You needed to heal,” Harley said.

“I left her,” Peter said firmer.

“I left her too,” Harley said.

Peter’s head jerked to face him. “What?”

“She got real mad about it too. When Mama first… I didn’t go see her. I couldn’t. And then, well you know how I was when I got back. I couldn’t look her in the eyes. She just reminded me of everything I couldn’t be.” He tentatively grabbed Peter’s hand and rubbed circles with his thumb. “She misses you like crazy. She knows that you needed time and even if she’s mad, she’s gonna let you back in, because she loves you.”

Peter took a shaky breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Harley let go of his hand, an empty weight filling the air in its absence. “It’s gonna be okay,” Harley repeated.

“Okay.”

He pushed open the door, revealing a clean and pristine apartment. “We cleaned for the visit,” Harley said. 

“It looks nice,” Peter said, slightly choked up.

“Abby? I’m home. I’ve got someone who wants to see you.”

Abby exited her room, nose deep in her script. “I’m practicing, Harley, can’t you…” she looked up, eyes going wide. “Peter!”

“Hi, Abby,” he said with a teary smile.

She ran up to him, engulfing him into the tightest hug she could muster. “You’re back!”

“Yup. I’m back. I came back for you.”

“I missed you so much,” she said into the fabric of his sweater.

“I missed you too. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” He kissed the top of her hair. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she mumbled.

Peter pulled away, and ran a gentle palm to her cheek. “Your hair has gotten so long.”

Abby nodded. “I have to grow it out for the performance.”

“How are rehearsals going? Are they going good?”

She nodded again. “I’m almost off book which is really cool. You’re gonna come see it, right?”

“Of course I’m gonna come see it,” Peter said. “I would never miss it.”

“Is your heart finally better? Did you find your love?”

Peter smiled a wobbly grin. “It’s growing. And that’s enough for now.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Abby, go get settled on the couch,” Harley directed. With a deep breath, Harley opened the door, plastering a smile. “Hi! Come in, come in.”

“I see you’re back from your retreat,” she said flatly.

“Yup.”

“Hm.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” Peter asked.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m here to relay some business.” She took a breath. “Due to lack of funding, exorbitant financial loss, several abuses of the program’s benefits and privileges, and many other extraneous issues, the Adolescence to Adulthood Preparation Program has hereby been disbanded. This should not be too much of an issue to you two considering you have always been diligent on your payments. However, we will no longer be here to back you up financially, and we will no longer be checking in on you two. What you do now is up to you.”

Peter, mouth agape and nearly speechless, raised a hand. “The program. It’s… it’s just canceled?”

She nodded. “And because of your current status with your emancipation,” she looked to Peter, “and aging out of the system,” to Harley, “you are no longer a ward of the state, so you may choose to do with this apartment as you wish. If you have any questions, you have our phone number, but I must get going.”

Before Peter or Harley could interject, she was out the door with a soft click.

With the words barely processing in his mind, Peter nodded. “So… that happened.”

“It… it’s just done. Just like that. I always said it would, but I didn’t think…”

“Yeah. I know. It… wow. It’s… wow.”

“What’s wrong?” Abby asked, looking up from the couch.

“Nothing, Sugarbug. Don’t worry about it,” Peter reassured. 

Abby, realizing that Peter and Harley needed a moment, announced, “I’m gonna go practice in my room.”

Peter collapsed on the couch, back sinking into the cushions. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Harley admitted. “Will you… you don’t have to stay anymore. Are you… are you gonna leave?”

“Just because I… I’m not going to leave, Harley. I… Abby is my home. I don’t give a flying fuck if I’m not required to live with you anymore, I…” He stopped. “I’m not leaving.”

“This is your out. You don’t have to be tied down to us anymore…”

“I’m not tied down to you! I am  _ choosing  _ you. I  _ choose  _ to stay. Don’t you get that? I’m not just going to leave. I’m not going to give up on you like that.” He paused. “Her. I’m not going to give up on  _ her _ like that.” 

Harley took a seat next to him, laying his head back on the cushion. “I can’t believe it’s over.”

“Yeah. I know.” Peter turned his head to face Harley, cheek resting on the stained fabric. “It feels like it’s been longer than it’s been, but it… it hasn’t even been a year yet.”

“Huh,” Harley said in realization. “It hasn’t.”

“You were an ass,” Peter stated.

Harley barked out a surprised laugh. “Yeah. I was.”

SEPTEMBER of 2019

_ “Jesus, Parker, this is your second mental breakdown of the week.” _

_ Peter looked up as he kneeled on the hardwood with a roll of the eyes. His hands were covered by thick rubber gloves and the floor was drenched with soapy water. “They aren’t mental breakdowns. I just like to keep things clean.” _

_ “Yeah, and you get all anal retentive and scrub the floors for hours and choke out sobs when you move to the next part because you are completely stable.” _

_ “I’m not sobbing,” Peter corrected. _

_ “Then what exactly is that noise you make where you cover your mouth while your eyes get all misty? Because that’s all on you and whatever issue of the day is gnawing on your subconscious.” Harley thumbed through the different cereals and settled on Cinnamon Toast Crunch. _

_ As if on cue, Peter gagged, covering his mouth and wiping his watering eyes. “The apartment reeks of alcohol and pot after every party you throw. You’re just too hungover to register the scent,” Peter said. _

_ “Oh, I’m doin’ fine and dandy when I’m hungover. I’m just desensitized to the smell, which you and your virgin nose don’t.” Harley waterfalled a handful of dry cereal in his mouth. _

_ “And what does that mean?” Peter questioned. _

_ “It’s not like you even know what a good time is. You’re holed up in your room, studying despite the fact that we’re only three weeks into the school year, instead of letting loose for once and joining me in the fun.” _

_ “I don’t want to join you in any fun,” Peter stated. “That is something I am not looking for.” _

_ “Well you wouldn’t know if you never try,” Harley said with a cocked brow. He shoveled another handful of dry cereal in his mouth. “Now, I happen to have a pair of lingerie to return to a girl I can barely remember the name of and an excuse for a round five.” He winked. “So I best be off.” _

_ As the door closed behind him, Peter let out a long groan. _

“But you got better,” Peter said.

“I sure hope I did,” Harley replied.

HALLOWEEN

_ “Are you alright?” he asked. _

_ “Oh yeah. It’s just the apples. They make my lips tingly. Feels like anaphylaxis.” _

_ Peter’s eyes went wide. “Do you need Benadryl? Or your epi? Are you going to be okay?” _

_ Harley laughed, quickly restraining his volume. “It’s fine. It’s just a minor reaction. Nothing severe.” _

_ “Why did you even drink the cider if you’re allergic?” _

_ “Because it tastes good.” _

_ Peter chuckled, shaking his head, and pulling the mug from his hands, causing Harley to let out a long whine. _

_ “Nu-uh. No more apple cider for you.” He poured the remains of his into his own mug and set it carefully in the sink. _

_ “When did you become the fun police?” _

_ “According to you, I’ve always been the fun police,” Peter pointed out. _

_ Harley pursed his lips. “Right.” He looked to him with a soft expression that Peter couldn’t decipher. “But I don’t see you that way anymore.” _

_ “Well, I’m glad.” Peter plopped back onto the couch. “How are you feeling? Do you need a drink?” _

_ Harley shook his head. “Not tonight. I think I’m still running on that buzz from the seven fun sized M&M bags I ate.” _

_ “More like devoured,” Peter teased. _

_ “Like you weren’t thoroughly enjoying those little Butterfingers.” _

_ “It is not often that I get to snack on little candies.” _

_ Harley raised his eyebrows. “The wrappers in our office beg to differ.” _

_ “It is not often that I get to snack on little Butterfingers,” Peter corrected. _

_ Harley snorted. “Yeah yeah. It’s only Halloween once a year. I’ll let you have it.” _

_ Peter sipped gingerly at his mug of apple cider. “What was trick or treating like back in Rose Hill?” _

_ Harley’s face lit up. “It was different than here in the city, that’s for sure. Sometimes there was a long trek between houses, and that’s what made it fun. The town may have been small and poor but it had big personality. People went all out, not like the lame welcome mats and leaf wreaths on their doors. They had orange and purple lights, skeletons in overalls and straw hats, spiderwebs and pumpkins on both sides of the steps to your porch. That’s something y’all don’t have either. Porches. Porches are nice.” _

_ “Your holiday spirit is refreshing,” Peter said softly. “When I got older, we sorta… we kinda forgot about all of this. I missed this.” He blew a little air from his nose, a goofy smile on his lips. “And that Halloween themed dinner? Culinary mastermind at work.” _

_ Harley shoved his shoulder. “Can it.” _

_ “No, really! You are a visionary. I now expect amazing themed treats from you more often. I mean, those little ghost kabobs were genius. Makes me want to actually eat fruit.” _

_ “Is that really all it takes to get you to eat a well rounded meal? Ghost cookie cutters?” _

_ Peter smirked. “I mean, I’m quite impartial to dinosaurs. Love me some dinosaur nuggies.” _

_ Harley rolled his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind when I’m slaving over the stove for hours on actually good food wasted to your uncouth taste buds.” _

_ “It’s not my fault that those dinosaur nuggets just taste so supreme. And paired with smiley fries? I’m a goner.” _

_ Harley looked down at his watch. “Well, it is currently 11:07, so if I warm up the oven now, I can get you the feast you crave so dearly before midnight.” _

_ Peter grinned. “What are you waiting for?” _

“A lot’s happened since we’ve met. A lot’s changed,” Peter said with a sad, nostalgic glint in his eyes.

“Yeah. It has.”

THE WEEK AFTER THANKSGIVING

_ The new dynamic between the two teens was electric. Stolen glances in class and grazed fingers on bare skin, sparks every time they touched, it was exhilarating. _

_ With Abby back in Boston, Peter and Harley had the apartment to themselves, and it was a pretty quiet night. _

_ Peter was hunched over his desk, brows furrowed in concentration as the paragraphs on Brexit policies were blurring in his mind. _

_ A mug of steaming hot cocoa was placed next to his laptop, extra whipped cream and caramel drizzle. _

_ Peter smiled softly. “Thanks.” He took a sip, humming in delight as the warm liquid coated his parched throat. _

_ Harley’s arms rested on the edge of the desk, his chest pressed against Peter’s back, head resting on his shoulder. _

_ Peter smiled and turned his head, pulling him in for a gentle kiss, the sweet whipped cream still on his lips. Harley instinctively licked it off, making Peter hungry for more. _

_ Peter spun his chair around and snaked his fingers into Harley’s hair, pulling him closer. Harley got down on his knees, settling himself between Peter’s legs, warm hands going up his shirt and running down his bare back. _

_ Harley tentatively nibbled on Peter’s bottom lip earning a soft moan and a tug to his blonde locks. Harley smirked against his lips, standing up, pulling Peter with him. _

_ Not daring to break the contact between their lips, the two stumbled to their bedroom, knocking over a lamp on the way. _

_ Peter, getting a burst of confidence, shoved Harley to the bed and made a grueling slow show as he pulled his sweater off. Harley could feel his mouth water as he got a full view of Peter. _

_ “Wow,” he said breathlessly. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” _

_ Peter rushed to the bed, straddling Harley’s waist as he connected his lips with his again, a needy and desperate. Harley pulled away, a quiet whine escaping Peter’s lips.  _

_ “There’s no rush. We’ve got all the time in the world,” Harley reassured. He pulled his t-shirt off and threw it to the floor, eyes fluttering closed as he felt Peter’s hands trail down his torso. _

_ Harley flipped them over so that he was on top, trailing kisses down Peter’s jaw and then down to his throat, kissing and nibbling until he earned a particular gasp or jut of the hips from Peter, sucking on the spots that were especially sensitive. Peter was nearly trembling, complete putty beneath Harley’s touch, breathy whimpers of “Harley, Harley, Harley,” escaping his red lips. _

_ When Harley’s lips connected back to his, they were cold, sending a shiver down his spine. Harley hesitantly rested his body weight on Peter’s, closing the space between them, bare chest against bare chest. That earned another rumble of a moan from Peter. _

_ Harley unthinkingly grinded his hips against Peter’s, causing an undeniable friction that made Peter gasp. Peter suddenly pulled away, creating distance from him. _

_ Harley, still dizzy and foggy from his mindless lustful thoughts, tried to sober up. “What’s wrong?” _

_ “I’m sorry, I… I just…” _

_ “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Harley reassured. _

_ “I know. I know. I… I’m sorry.” _

_ “Nothing to be sorry about,” Harley said. _

_ Peter clenched his jaw, staring embarrassed at his hands in his lap. “I wish I could… but I can’t. I’m just… not yet.” _

_ “And I can keep waiting. I’ll wait for years if I have to, and I’ll even settle for this to never be an option. I don’t want you just because I want to fuck you, Peter. I want you because you make me smile, and you have supported me through the lowest points of my life, and you inspire me everyday to be a better person. Your kindness and your patience and your wisdom, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but all I know is I’m not letting you go. And when you decide to finally let me go, I’ll be happy to know that I got this time with you.” _

_ Peter frowned. “Why do you say it like that? ‘When.’ Like it’s inevitable?” _

_ “Because it is. I’m me. I’m bound to fuck it up somehow.” _

_ Peter placed a gentle hand on Harley’s cheek, rubbing his thumb on his cheekbone. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lip, savoring the moment and not going for anything more. “Yes. You’re you. Which means that you’re worth stickin’ around for.” He gave Harley one last kiss before going to slip his sweater back on. “I’ve gotta finish my gov work and I’ve got a mug of lukewarm cocoa to finish, but I’ll be done in a couple hours. If you’re not already asleep, we can cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie.” _

_ Harley smiled. “I’d like that.” _

_ “I’ll see you then.” _

Peter’s head was still turned, eyes on Harley. He took a dry gulp, thoughtlessly chewing on his bottom lip. Harley’s eyes flickered to the movement, eyes locked on his soft, plump, pink…

“We should, uh, we should talk to Abby,” Harley stammered.

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Good idea.”

The talk was rough and raw. It was piecing together stories that they didn’t have synced up, and passive-aggressive jabs that went over Abby’s head, and constant reassurance that no one would be leaving her and they were here to stay. It was also laying down the facts of their new normal: that it wouldn’t be the same, and Peter and Harley weren’t back together, and that Harley and Peter still needed time to recover.

Their life was always going to be far from normal, but at least now they had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late response! i haven't had wifi all day. 
> 
> if you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	8. We Don't Talk Anymore (like we used to do)

It had been awkward to say the least.

Peter and Harley were teetering between longing pining over feelings that were now more like memories and hopes than complete lingering enamorment and pained grudges seared deep into the forefront of their minds that continued to make itself heard in quick pangs in the chest that were ever so present.

But, now that Spring Break was coming up, there wasn’t school to keep them separated, and even though Peter was taking extra shifts and Luigi and Harley was spending time at the tower, they still had to be present for Abby.

So they were keeping their distance. They needed more time. Just because they were living with each other didn’t mean they had to actually face each other, right?

Right?   
  


.-~*~-.

Abby hopped next to Peter at the island who was immersed intently in a red soaked journal, squinting at faded and blurred words.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Abby asked.

Peter shut it closed, throwing it into his room with perfect precision. “Nothing!”

Abby looked to him in confusion, brows scrunched tight. “Where’s Harley?”

Peter shrugged. “I think he mentioned getting together with Mr. Stark to work on his prosthesis project or something.”   


Abby studied his face. She knew that Peter knew exactly where Harley was because he had that tight jawed, distant look in his eyes. It was the “I’m worried about Harley look” that he wore for months prior.

“Right,” she said, lips pursed in dissatisfaction. “Well, when he’s back, can you guys help me run my scenes?”

“I can do that,” Peter said.

“Right, but I want to do it with both of you.”

Peter paused as he contemplated what to say. “Harley is gonna be really tired when he comes home. He needs to rest.”

“All he does is rest,” Abby complained. “It doesn’t even take energy to help me practice. He just lays on the couch and reads the lines.”

“When he works in the lab, he usually is ready to crash when he comes home. He needs his sleep.”

Abby pursed her lips. “Okay.” She grabbed her script from the coffee table. “Can you run through them with me, then?”

“Of course.”

.-~*~-.

Harley chewed the back of his pen as he read over his journal entry of the day. Yellow and pink. Ten good things. No triggers. Steady, growing diet. Things were on track.

“It’s Saturday,” Abby stated to Harley.

Harley raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“So, now that Peter is back, we can start our  _ My Little Pony  _ marathon again.”

Harley shook his head, setting his journal down. “I’ve got so much work to do. I mean, it’s the end of the year and I’ve got so much catch up work…’

“It’s Saturday!” Abby protested.

“I know, but I’ve gotta catch up or I’m gonna get a bad grade, and you know that bad grades aren’t good.”

Abby pouted. “When you’re done?”

Harley hesitated. “We’ll see. Alright?”

Abby nodded. “Alright.”

As Abby sat on the couch, curled up in Peter’s side, she didn’t say anything about the way Peter’s shoulders shook silently against her back, and she definitely didn’t say anything to Harley when he didn’t show up to My Little Pony night and had bloodshot eyes in the morning.

.-~*~-.

Harley had just gotten a new video game. Abby liked it because it had cute animals and it was colorful.

Harley was glued to his screen all day. When Peter and Abby came back from church, he was still on the couch, playing his game.

“We’re going to the grocery store. Do you wanna come with?” Abby asked.

“I just started a time sensitive quest,” Harley said, not looking up from his Switch.

Abby looked to him with incredulous disbelief.

“Go without me. I made a list.”

Abby held back a huff and grabbed the list from the counter and put on her galoshes. 

.-~*~-.

Peter entered the apartment with a soft sigh, throwing his jacket on the rack, and shaking his untied shoes next to the door. He ran a hand over his face as he closed his crusty eyes.

Abby watched him with curious eyes. “Peter! Harley made supper.”

Peter looked up. “Oh. Thanks, Sugarbug, but I’ll grab something on patrol.”

“You sure you should go on patrol?” Harley asked.

“You sure you have any say on anything I do?” Peter snapped.

Harley clamped his mouth shut and stared at his plate. 

Peter looked like he wanted to say something else, but he shook his head. “I’ll be safe. I’ll be back before midnight.”

Harley nodded. “Alright. I… I’ll still save you some stew. I know how much you love the sweet sausage.”

Peter hesitated. “Thanks.” He gave a quick nod back and headed to Harley’s room. 

It used to be their room, but Peter slept on the couch now. He went in to change after Harley was already in the bathroom or kitchen in the mornings. Abby didn’t know why he slept on the couch when he had a bed, but at least she knew it was a comfortable couch from the times she spent on it.

Abby frowned. They used to have family dinners together, but they haven’t had any since Peter got back. He was always out on patrol or Harley was busy with work. She missed family dinners.

.-~*~-.

Abby pressed her ear to the cold wood of her door, trying to catch the frustrated conversation happening on the other side.

“I told you know I don’t know anything else!”

“I know, but you said…”

“Well what I said is what I said, Peter. What do you expect from me?”

“You said that you remembered what she looked like…”

“And I’ve told you everything I remember. You have a full description. What else could you possibly need?”

“I know we have a description, but they need you to come and work with a sketch artist.”

“In case you didn’t remember, the last time I talked about it, I was unresponsive for five hours straight. I can’t risk that again. I’ve got Abby and I’ve got school and I…”

“This is imperative to the case. Your description was still loose, but if you just…”

“I’m not doing it! End of discussion.”

“Harley, wait.”

“What?! What else could you possibly want?”

“I just need you to…”

“You’ve asked quite enough from me already, don’t you think?”

“Your journal said…”

“Whatever it says in there is all you’re gonna get.”

“But…”

_ “What it says in there is all you’re gonna get.  _ Alright? I don’t know anything else, and everything I do know is in my file. So if you will…”

There’s silence and then a slammed door. 

_ “Fuck. _ ”

There’s some rustling, a clink of keys, and another slammed door.

.-~*~-.

Abby hummed quietly as she shoveled forkfuls of syrup drenched pancakes in her mouth. She took a sip of her milk, and went back to the fluffy stack.

“You made breakfast,” Harley stated as he walked in.

“Yeah, I… it’s… they were a little burnt at first, but I think I’m getting a hang of it.” He looked at the giant stack. “I also made a lot of extra batter, so we might be having pancakes for breakfast for a while.”

“I… I won’t go to the artist,” Harley said. 

Peter nodded silently. “I know. I’m sorry for pushing. I shouldn’t have…”

“But,” Harley interjected. “I did my own sketch.” He handed him a folded paper. “It’s rough and it’s shaky, but it looks like her.”

“You… are you alright?” Peter asked softly.

“Just don’t make me look at it again,” Harley said, an edge to his voice.

“Thank you.”

“I hope it helps with the investigation.”

“We’re gonna find her,” Peter murmured, drawing closer to Harley, rubbing his thumb on his arm.

Harley pulled away. “Right. Well, I’ve got work to do, so I’m just gonna…” He grabbed a plate of pancakes. “Have a good day, Abs.”

“I will,” Abby said, mouth full.

“And chew your food.”

Abby rolled her eyes, swallowing her bite and sticking her tongue out.

“I love you, squirt.”

“I love you too.”

.-~*~-.

It was a dance. As soon as they caught the eye of the other, they booked it in the other direction. Adjusting their schedules so they would never have to face each other. 

But it was also the stolen glances. Lingering their gaze as the other turned away, and turning back when they thought they weren’t looking too.

Abby was getting real sick of it. 

.-~*~-.

“Harley! Peter! Come here quick! Help!”

Harley slid in his socks as he ran, sliding face first in the doorframe, Peter quickly catching him as he fell.

“What?! What’s wrong?!”

Abby stood unharmed in her room, arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her lips. “You two need to talk.”

Peter sighed. “Abby, you can’t just scare us like that. We thought this was something serious.”

“It is serious! You two  _ need  _ to talk. You’ve been acting like little kids and it’s not fair to each other and it’s not fair to me. You said you would try, but you’re not. So try.” She pushed them in her room, and slammed the door. “And I’m not letting you out until you make up.” She slid a chair under the doorknob.

Peter fiddled with the handle. “Abby. C’mon. Let us out. You know I can rip this door off of its hinges if I wanted to.”

“But you won’t,” Abby stated.

“Abby. Come on,” Harley said.

“Talk.” When they didn’t respond, she continued. “I’m going to take a bath, and when I’m done, only then will I see if you’re ready to be let out.”

Peter and Harley sighed, staring at the sticker covered door.

“She wasn’t kidding when she said she’s taking a bath. I can hear the water running,” Peter said.

“Great,” Harley said, plopping down on her bed, holding his hand to his head.

“Oh, ouch. Are you alright?”

“Would be a lot better if I could have a bag of frozen peas on it right now,” Harley retorted.

“Maybe she’ll let us out to…”

“She’s not gonna. There’s only one person more stubborn than the two of us, and it’s Abby,” Harley said.

Peter nodded. “Don’t I know it.” He sat down next to him, the bed shifting to his weight. “So…”

“What?” Harley questioned. “It doesn’t matter if we do or don’t talk. She can’t know the difference.”

“She can and she will,” Peter pointed out.

“Yeah. I know,” Harley said with defeat.

“Was this a bad idea? Me coming back?” Peter asked.

“Do you think it was?” 

Peter gnawed at his lip. “Do you?”

“This ain’t about me,” Harley said.

“But it is,” Peter blurted out. “It always is. It has to be about you because no matter what I’m feeling, that… it has to be about you too.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Yes. It does. Because as much as we want things to be normal, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, and I never really will, but all I know is that even if I do everything right, I do it wrong. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

Harley groaned. “You’re still on this?”

“Of course I’m still on this! Do you… I never wanted to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. You’ve already been hurt so much, and I can’t be the one who adds to the pain.”

“Have you ever considered that you’re hurting me by doing this?”

Peter retracted back. “What?”

“I’ve been giving you distance because you said you needed it, but that doesn’t stop me from missing you. Missing what we had. Missing talking to you about nothing and having someone who will listen and someone to listen to. I miss this. Just havin’ moments with just you and me. Without Abby. Like how we… and I know it’s pretty selfish of me to say, but that won’t stop me from feelin’ it.”

“Well, now I’m just getting mixed signals,” Peter said with a soft chuckle. “I mean I… I thought I was the one giving  _ you  _ space.”

Harley laughed. “Well that’s us. CEOs of miscommunication.” He smiled softly. “What are you thinkin’? I see you’re thinkin’ really hard.”

“As much as I miss this too, I don’t know if I…”

“If you’re ready.”

“I just…” Peter struggled to find the words. “I don’t know if all the progress I made is going to…”

“Because you don’t know if it’s tied down to me.” Harley clenched his jaw. “Well, I’d like to hope it’s not, but I know what you’re feelin’.”

“I’m sorry, Harley…”

“But what if it’s not?” Harley asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “What if we’re tiptoeing around the what ifs when we could’ve just…” Harley’s eyes flickered to Peter’s lips.

Peter licked his lips instinctively, but stood up abruptly, creating as much distance between himself and Harley as he could. “Harley…” he said with a warning tone.

Harley shook his head, letting out a breath. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“We’re healing. We aren’t ready for something like this.”

“You mean you. You’re not,” Harley stated.

Peter paused. “Yeah. I’m not.”

“And that’s all you gotta say. I’m not gonna push you into anything.”

“Are you saying you are? You’re ready for something like…”

“I don’t know, Peter! I don’t know much these days.”

“Well I don’t know either!” Peter stared at the plush carpet, running his foot back and forth. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the custody case,” Harley said, breaking the silence.

“No, I… I get it. She’s your sister…”

“But she’s your kid too,” Harley blurted out. “And you cared for her during a time that I couldn’t. And I… I’m always going to be grateful for that. And I… I guess I… shit. I… honestly? I didn’t tell you because I was scared. I was scared that they were gonna take one look at you and see the way she talked about you and you talked about her and then take one look at me and just see through my facade and realize that I’m just one big, broken fake and take her away from me.”

“Even if they gave me custody, I would never…”

“But I was scared you would! She’s my sister, and I haven’t been the best brother, but I… all I ever wanted was to protect her, and I fucked that up, and I just felt like I had to prove myself. To make it official so I could make it up to her for the rest of her life. To give her a forever home with me and to make sure she would never have to leave again. And I was worried that if I brought you back in for joint custody and they saw how we were together, which, face it, it wasn’t pretty, we’d both lose her. So I… I’m sorry. I was just so damn scared and I,” his voice cracked as he choked up, “I can’t lose her again.”

Peter stared at him speechlessly. “Harley, I… I’m sorry.”

“To the eyes of the law, you may not be her parent, but in every other way that matters, you are, and you will always be. Know that. Because you mean the absolute world to her, and you mean the absolute world to…” He stopped. “I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for her. You… thank you. Thank you so much.”

Peter stared at the ceiling and let out a quiet snort. “You know, I can barely remember a time when my biggest problem was you keeping me up with girls over every night.”

“You were also recently orphaned. Was that not a bigger problem?” Harley questioned.

He shrugged. “I’d been orphaned before.”

“Shit. That’s dark.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah. I suppose so.” He sat back on the bed. “Of course that was a bigger problem, but when I have bigger problems, I focus on the little problems to avoid the big problem.”

“Are you doing that now?” Harley asked.

Peter shut his mouth, pressing his lips together in a tight line. “Maybe I am.”

“When you’re ready, I’ll be here. I hope you know that.”

“Thanks. And I… I’m here for you. I may not be ready, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still… because I do. I’m going to be here for you and know that I’m here to support you, even if I can’t give my everything to be there.”

“I don’t expect you to give your everything. I just want you to be there,” Harley said gently.

Peter grinned. “I think I can do that.”

The two laid on the plush carpet floor, staring at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Their knuckles brushed lightly, and if they curled to interlock, neither would admit it after they left that room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	9. Sound of Silence

“What’s it looking like tonight, Karen?”

_ “It is a quiet night, Peter. There is nothing on my radar that is not being currently dealt with by the NYPD.” _

“Quiet night. I could use one of those,” Peter said, swinging his legs against the side of the skyscraper he sat atop.

He smiled softly at the moon that shone brightly, the pale moonlight filling the dark sky. He laid his back on the hard cement, staring at the sky, fingers tracing patterns on the rough surface.

_ “FRIDAY has been disabled in the Stark Tower. My connection with her has been cut.” _

Peter shot up. “What? Does Mr. Stark know?”

_ “Mr. Stark is currently in Beijing for a Young Innovators and Innovations Conference.” _

Peter cursed under his breath. “Then we better be on our way.”

He swung as fast as he could to the tower, arms sore after a long night and the arduous travel. He perched on the roof, trying to listen in on the giant tower. Sneaking through a window left carelessly open on the twenty-second floor, he crawled the ceiling.

“Karen,” he whispered. “How many people are in the building?”

_ “There are currently one hundred and sixty four heat signatures in the tower.” _

“Are they all security guards?”

_ “There are also some scientists on the R&D.” _

Peter nodded. “Okay. Okay, that’s…”

_ “However, the number of living heat signatures is declining.” _

“What?” Peter hissed.

_ “And one particular heat signature is making its way up every floor.” _

“Shit.” Peter rushed to the stairs. “What floor are they on?”

_ “They are currently on this floor.”  _

Peter froze, Spidey Sense screaming at him.

“Hello, Peter Parker.”

Peter’s head shot back, eyes wide. “You…”

“Oh yes. I know who you are. I know everything about you,” the woman said ominously, her voice soft and unsettlingly calm.

The notion sent a chill down Peter’s spine. “What do you want?”

“You really think I’m the reckless, evil monologue type, Peter Parker? Well if you did, then you’re sadly mistaken.” She smiled. “Now, I’ve got things to do, so if you’d leave me to it, then you won’t get hurt.”

Peter scoffed. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Then I guess I’m leaving with a fight.” She held her hand up, and shot him hard in the stomach with what he recognized to be an Iron Man gauntlet. 

“How did you…”

“Got it made especially for me. Real special tech. Real fun too.” She shot at him again, but he dodged. “You know, it’s so interesting. Your powers. Heard you can’t handle too much input. What did he call it?” She grinned a haunting and hollow grin. “Overstimulation.” She pulled out a remote from her pocket. “Now wouldn’t it be a shame if your suit were to disengage.” She pressed her thumb to the silver button.

Peter’s suit shut down, the built in light and sound dampeners retracting. “What are you doing?” He asked nervously.

“And wouldn’t it be a shame if I were to…” She pressed another button, and an excruciatingly loud and long screech pierced the air. Peter covered his ears, body collapsing in on itself as the horrible pain shot through his body. His limbs locked, rigid and stiff, as he writhed in pain.

“Have fun with this, Peter Parker. I’ve got work to do.” 

Peter didn’t see her saunter away. His eyes clenched together, his jaw so tight that his teeth were grinding into his gums. He could feel blood dripping down his ears, but the vibrations didn’t just affect his hearing. It pulsed through his body, ripping through his skin and sending shocks in his veins.

He didn’t know how long he was lying on the ground, agonizing in pain, but the pressure finally left, his chest heaving and heavy as he finally could catch a break. His body, exhausted, relaxed, leaving him limp, staring at the ceiling. He was so caught up in the relief, that he almost didn’t notice the eerie silence that had surrounded him.

He stumbled to his feet, calling out, “Karen?” But he didn’t hear himself speak. He cleared his throat. “Karen?” He repeated louder, but to no avail. “Shit.”

Peter cased the tower, only to find floors upon floors with dead civilians. He cringed, cursing himself for being so reckless. With no way of knowing if Karen or FRIDAY were up and running and could hear him, he swung to the apartment, disoriented and definitely not in the state to be swinging half an hour home. The silence was gnawing at him, making his skin crawl.

As he stumbled through the window of the apartment with an exasperated glare from Harley, who shushed him and reprimanded him for what he could only assume to be something along the lines of “you’re making a ruckus and I just put Abby to bed.”

Peter, in what he hoped to be a hushed whisper, said “I can’t hear.”

_ “What? _ ” Harley asked.

Peter ripped off his mask, and motioned to his ears, caked with dried blood. 

Harley’s breath caught in his throat. “Are you…” He paused and pulled out his phone.  _ ‘What happened?’ _

“Villain of the day. Break in at SI. Iron Man tech and debilitating sonic frequencies.” His eyes went wide. “You have to call Mr. Stark.”

“Why can’t…” He stopped. ‘ _ Why can’t you?’ _

He gave a blank stare and pointed to his ears. 

Harley nodded. “Right.” He started to type in the number when he paused.

“Why’d you stop?” Peter questioned.

_ ‘I don’t really know what happened. You should probably tell him what happened and I can translate?’ _

Peter sighed. “Okay.” Peter watched awkwardly as Harley typed in the number and had a conversation with Tony. Reassurances that it wasn’t a bad call, he was fine, he was sorry for interrupting his convention, he had something he needed to tell him, and then finally, a tap to Peter’s hand.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

Silence.

_ ‘He’s said to skip the pleasantries and get to the point. _

“So there was a break in at SI. Whoever was there had access codes, an Iron Man gauntlet, codes to shut down FRIDAY, and tech to shut down the Spider-Man suit.”

“And…” Harley said, giving him a knowing glance.

“Oh, and now I can’t hear.”

_ ‘Tony is very livid right now. Lots of rambling though now he stopped because he realizes that you can’t hear him. And now he’s… oh there’s a closed captioning button on the StarkPhone. One sec.’ _

**_Peter. Are you telling me that you have been deafened and you didn’t think to say something about it to me sooner?_ **

“Uh… sorry?”

**_I’ll look into the break in. See if the code has been corrupted and if any tech or files have been stolen. You... you stay put until I get back, which will be about twenty four hours. Have Karen scan your vitals, and if there is anything else, and I mean anything, I don’t care if it’s a Goddamn paper cut, you go to Compound and you get treated by the medical professionals, not WebMD. Keep me posted.”_ **

_ ‘He hung up.’ _

Peter nodded. “I can’t tell if Karen is working.”

_ ‘What do you mean?’ _

Peter stared back at him with an incredulous look.

_ ‘Right. Should I…’ _

“She can connect to your suit’s AI. I don’t think you want to wear my mask.” He motioned to the bloody fabric.

Harley winced in disgust and discomfort, nodding in agreement. He tapped his watch, magenta multichrome encompassing his body. 

Peter couldn’t read his lips anymore, so he stared at the wall, three songs playing in his head at once. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when there was a warm hand placed on his shoulder and a phone placed in his hand.

_ ‘You have multiple hairline fractures in bones throughout your whole body and your organs are healing from what appears to be internal damage. There is no permanent damage to your muscles, but you may feel sore for a bit. Are you experiencing any weakness or shakiness? Disorientation or vertigo? Discomfort or pain? Nausea?’ _

Peter looked down to his trembling hands. “Haven’t stopped shaking since she attacked. I was… it felt like I was seizing except I was completely awake. I’m feeling really weak, uh, yeah I, uh…” He blinked trying to settle his rapid mind. “I’m really foggy. Can’t think. Everything’s too… can’t think. Can’t focus. Everything’s so…” He swayed in his seat.

Harley rushed to his side, supporting him with a firm arm around his waist. 

“Everything hurts. I can’t… it hurt so much. Harley, it hurt so much. And I… I couldn’t move. I’ve never been so… I couldn’t move, and it hurt so much, and I… it hurts so much.” Tears were now falling freely down Peter’s cheeks, body shaking violently beneath Harley’s touch. 

Harley pet Peter’s hair, pulling him in tighter as Peter sobbed into his chest. The familiarity of the steady beating of his heart and arms wrapped around him gave him a moment of serenity as he instinctually buried his face deeper into the crook of Harley’s neck, tightening his grasp on his sleep shirt.

Harley shushed him gently, though he knew he couldn’t hear him, and ran his fingers through Peter’s curls, massaging soft circles into his scalp.

When Peter’s breath had evened out, eyes fluttered shut, Harley carried him to his bed that he hadn’t slept in since he got back, and laid him cautiously down.

His gaze lingered on the sleeping teen, who was deep in an exhaustion induced slumber, peaceful and calm. 

He got into bed, sleeping on his side so he could keep an eye on Peter. Soon, he was drifting away.

.-~*~-.

Peter awoke slowly. As his eyes peeled open, he had a moment of panic before recalled the events of the night before.

He was disoriented, though he wasn’t sure if it was the lack of hearing or the pounding headache that nailed at his temples.

He gently stretched, noting that all of the fractures had healed overnight, but he didn’t think he could stomach breakfast, despite the tempting scents of bacon and eggs from the kitchen.

He slowly left the bedroom, the silence uncomfortable and just a constant reminder of his failure from the previous night.

Abby turned to Peter and tapped her right cheek, left cheek, and then right cheek again.

It had been so long, Peter had almost forgotten what it had meant.

“No, I’m not hungry,” he said out loud.

_ Right snap, right snap, left snap, left snap. (Are you okay?) _

“Just don’t think I can handle it right now. Still feeling queasy.”

_ Cross double snap, cross double snap, cross double snap. (Is there anything I can do?) _

“No. I’ll be okay.” He groaned as he was running through his daily schedule. “Harley, can you call in Luigi’s for me? Don’t think I could go in even if I wanted to.”

Harley frowned, pulling out his phone.  _ ‘Still disoriented?’ _

“A little. Mostly sore. Got a killer headache though, so I just, can’t really focus.”

_ ‘Do you think you have a concussion?’ _

“Karen didn’t say I did, so I don’t think I do.”

Harley just gave a weak nod, and turned back to the sunny side up eggs that he was steaming.

Peter, knowing he couldn’t keep up with the conversation between the two siblings, pulled out his phone and read through his social medias.

However, he froze as he caught the title of the article linked on Twitter.

_ Trillions of Dollars Lost at Stark Tower after Late Night Break In. _

_ Over two hundred projects were stolen, destroyed, or leaked last night. Stark Industries is suffering a massive stock drop. It is rumored that investors are already dropping from SI, and will continue to do so. Will this be the downfall of Stark Industries? _

“Shit,” Peter muttered, eyes going wide as he remembered Abby was sitting next to him. “Do not repeat that.”

Abby gave a rolled eye and thumbs up.

Harley turned to him, pausing to think for a moment.  _ Right snap, left snap, clap, double snap, double snap. (What’s wrong?) _

Peter passed him the phone. As Harley eyes scanned the screen, he muttered a curse under his breath.

“That woman from last night did a lot of damage.”

Harley looked up. “Woman?”

“Yeah. She was a woman. I think she must work at SI, because I’ve seen her somewhere. I just don’t know where.” Peter paused. He shot out of his seat and ran to his room, hands shaking as he picked up the paper that he had been staring at for days. “Shit.”

Peter jumped as a warm hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Harley began to ask what was wrong again when he froze, eyeing the paper in his hand. “It was her, wasn’t it?”

Peter’s jaw clenched, unsure of what to say. Though he wasn’t a master at lip reading, those words were clear. “I’m sorry.”

Harley cursed again, fingers running through his hair. “So, she’s back?” he repeated.

“She’s destroying SI from the inside. First it was the ten million dollars to the Oscorp stocks, and then the leaked projects, and now…” He bit his tongue. “We’re gonna figure this out. Okay? Don’t… don’t worry. Mr. Stark and I… we’ll… everything is gonna be fine.”

“This is all my fault,” Harley said. 

“No. Don’t you dare say this is your fault. She… the things she did to you? She forced those answers out of you. You would’ve died if you didn’t tell her.”

“Well, then maybe I should’ve!” Harley snapped.

“You don’t mean that,” Peter said, voice wavering.

Harley snapped his mouth shut. 

“Harley,” Peter grabbed his hand. “Hey. Hey, look at me.” He turned his head, hand rested on his cheek. “You deserve life. You deserve to live. Everything that has happened? That you’ve done? That you’ve said? That doesn’t diminish your worth because nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever change that fact. You deserve to live. You deserve life.”

Harley’s eyes flickered to Peter’s lips, and he felt himself leaning in, but he quickly stopped himself, pulling away. He turned away, rubbing the back of his neck with his back turned to Peter.

“I can’t see what you’re saying when you’re turned away,” Peter said.

Harley turned around, a tentative smile on his lips. He held up his phone. 

_ ‘What a way to end your spring break, huh?’ _

Peter grinned. “Well, I can’t exactly hear, but I still want to have a good time. How about we take a walk? Go window shopping to get some ideas for Abby’s birthday?”

“That’d be nice.”

So there they were, a sense of deja vu as the three walked through the bustling streets of New York, Harley’s fingers interlocked with Peter’s (because he was very worried about him getting hurt with his lack of a sense, despite his Spidey Senses still intact) and his other hand interlocked with Abby’s. 

Though his lack of hearing was a heavy weight on his mind, the silence was almost nice. New York was a loud and busy place, and even with his sound dampeners, pure silence was found few and far between. 

Harley mindlessly ran his thumb over Peter’s, sending a warmth through his arm. Harley and Abby chattered and joked and Peter watched as Harley laughed, his eyes crinkling in delight.

It had been a long time since he’d seen Harley smile like that. Like it was real. 

The held hands turned to a protective arm around his waist. Peter leaned his head against the front of Harley’s shoulder, slotted perfectly against his form. They both smiled as Abby wandered with wonder around the store. Harley squeezed Peter’s side when Abby told him she liked something.

After their fifth store, the three settled at a Greek restaurant, Abby enjoying chicken kabobs, Harley with a gyro, and Peter with pita and hummus since his stomach was still churning from the night before.

Harley sipped on his iced tea, his hand still interlocked with Peter’s under the table. He and Abby were laughing together again, making Peter smile at the sight. 

Harley pulled out his phone and his face dropped.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

Harley turned the phone to him. 

**Tony: I am currently at your apartment, and you know what isn’t here? A certain, superpowered spider kid who had multiple hairline fractures and sensorineural hearing loss. Get your ass here.**

**Tony: Now.**

_ ‘We better get going,”  _ Harley typed.

Peter nodded.

Abby wiped her mouth as they took their trays to the trash can. Harley gave Peter’s hand a little squeeze, sending a tickling tingle up his arm again. 

Luckily for them, they were only a couple minutes away from the apartment, and with a more quickened pace, they made it in just under five.

As they entered, Tony sat on their couch, an unamused frown on his face.

Abby went to her room while Tony and Harley had a conversation that Peter could infer was filled heavily with sarcasm to mask the gravity of the situation. Harley stayed a step ahead of Peter, almost as if he was shielding him from whatever Tony was going to lecture him about.

Harley opened his phone and handed it to Peter.

**_“Tony just reminded me that StarkPhones have the most accurate voice to text feature of any phone on the market,”_** Harley said.

“Oh. Great.” Peter kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

**_“My quick scan reassures me that you’re not harboring any major injuries, so that’s good,”_ ** Tony said.  **_“Though, I don’t know what you were thinking going out in your conditions.”_ **

“My bones feel fine,” Peter stated.

**_“Oh, so you know what your bones feel like, huh? That’s what you’re going with?”_ **

Peter pursed his lips. “Yes?”

Tony rubbed his temples.  **_“We’re looking into the break-in. Whoever it was was able to disable the entire tower’s camera system, so there isn’t video evidence.”_ **

“We know who it was,” Peter said.

Tony looked up.  **_“And I think I’ve been able to infer who it was as well but…”_ **

**_“It was her,”_ ** Harley said.

Tony muttered an expletive under his breath.  **_“Then, I’m guessing there will be more hell to come. This was her plan. Destroy my company from the inside.”_ **

“But what is her motive? What does she gain from this?” Peter asked aloud.

Tony typed on his phone and displayed a hologram.  **_“Meet Rosemary Rancoufe. Ex-employee of Oscorp. She was making her way up the corporate ladder and was enroute to taking over the position of VP when Robert Byers stepped down. However, when she was fired and replaced with a nepotism hire, her career was ruined, furthermore self sabotaged with the choices she made soon after.”_ **

**_“Which were?”_ ** Harley asked.

**_“Trying to prove her worth by taking down competition.”_ **

“Which is where you come in,” Peter said.

**_“Exactly,”_ ** Tony said.  **_“Do you remember when SI replaced Apple and Microsoft as the leading company on the tech market?”_ **

“It already was going to happen though, wasn’t it?” Peter asked.

**_“It was in the works. But when Apple and Microsoft suddenly had billions of phones and computers and programs being corrupted by an untreatable virus, their net worth plummeted. SI was the only trusted company then.”_ **

“But that was years ago. Does that mean…”

**_“That she’s most likely been doing this for years.”_ **

Peter took a wobbly seat onto the couch, suddenly losing the strength to keep himself up. “So there’s more people who have…”

**_“Most likely, yes.”_ **

Peter’s hand shot up to his mouth. He couldn’t stand to look at anything, eyes blurry. He knew that Tony and Harley were talking to him, but he didn’t have the strength to look at the words. To read what they were saying. 

There was a shaky hand pressed to his, and he realized that he wasn’t the only one affected by this news.  _ Oh, God, Harley. _

He looked up, wiping his eyes, trying to decipher the expression on Harley’s face.  _ Crushed. Devastated. Lost. _

Peter gave a firm three squeezes to Harley’s hand.

Harley and Tony talked, but Peter didn’t read what they said, he just kept his eyes on Harley. He watched as the hope in his eyes was crumpling, hope that had taken so long to build.

Tony must’ve said something along the lines of a farewell because he was heading out of the door, leaving Peter and Harley alone.

“They’re gonna find her,” Peter said meekly.

**_“There’s more people like me out there. Or I… they probably weren’t even as lucky as me. They probably didn’t get out. God I… they didn’t get out. What if I didn’t get out?”_ **

Peter pulled him in, Harley’s head rested on his chest, making sure he could still see the phone while he held him. “But you made it out. You’re here. You’re safe.”

**_“I’ve been so selfish, wallowing over the time I lost and the things I went through but I… at least I’m alive. God, I’m alive. And I… I could not be. And that’s… I’ve been so caught up in everything I’ve lost and I haven’t appreciated what I have. What if I had died? What would Abby have done? And these people had families and lives and now they’re gone and I could’ve…”_ **

“Harley,” Peter interjected. “Just breathe. Breathe with me, alright? Breathe.”

And they breathed. They just breathed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	10. Every Breath You Take (i'll be watching you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Stalking

There are eyes everywhere. The eyes, they see things that are hidden from plain view. They see the mundane and the domestic nothingness of daily life. The eyes watch. They observe.

Those watched by the eyes did not know the eyes were watching them, but they were. The eyes watched them. They observed. They waited. They watched. They waited. They watched. They waited.

Waiting waiting waiting. Waiting for the perfect opportunity. Waiting for the moment to come.

The moment will come. The moment would come. The moment was coming.

Peter Parker was a moment in time. A stolen moment. A moment forged by what seemed to be coincidence. 

No. There was no coincidence. He was a moment forged by destiny.

She had been watching Peter Parker for quite some time. He had Oscorp innovation coursing through his veins.

It should not be Peter Parker. It should have been something greater. A bigger, brighter moment. But the moment was stolen by Peter Parker, and the moment only conformed to the world of Peter Parker.

Peter Parker was moments in time. Moments scattered and strewn astray and wasted.

She knew about Peter Parker. She knew of him. She knew him.

She knew his routine. She knew his secrets and his truths and his lies. She knew the kind of man he would become. The man he was becoming.

She had been watching him for some time. Some moments in time needed to be tampered to further their detriment.

Cars are fragile. People are fragile. May Parker was fragile. 

That moment in time was easy to manipulate. Easy to form. Easy to wait wait wait for.

Manipulation is easy once one finds weakness. Weakness fuels fear. Fear fuels recklessness. And the reckless are easy to manipulate.

Tony Stark’s kidnappers’ efforts were infantile. They didn’t think big enough. They didn’t think smart enough. Weak weak weak. Tony Stark was too strong. Tony Stark was too experienced. 

Peter Parker and Abby Keener’s kidnappers were sloppy. Greedy. Selfish. They did not see the bigger picture. The bigger world. The bigger world that was Peter Parker.

But Harley Keener’s kidnapper? Her? She may have been thwarted momentarily, but she had gotten more than enough. Harley Keener was weak. He was unsure. He was young and plagued by trust. 

Harley Keener was not a coincidence. He was not a moment forged by fate. He was carefully calculated. 

An opportunity had risen. An opportunity had presented itself, and time twisted to benefit the bigger picture was taken.

Harley Keener was tough, but he trusted. He trusted truly and deeply. His downfall would come from his trust. Not in Peter Parker. Not in her. In himself.

She watched, curiosity and intrigue tickling her mind. Peter Parker had healed in a mere three days. He was strong. Stronger than she could have ever imagined. 

There he was, sitting on the couch with Abby and Harley Keener. Oblivious. Ignorant. 

But she was calculating. She was waiting waiting waiting. And she would keep waiting. Waiting for the perfect moment in time. 

There were many people very interested in what flowed through Peter Parker’s veins. 

There was much to gain from what flowed through Peter Parker’s veins.

She will keep waiting. Waitin for the perfect moment in time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uhm,,,,, yeah.
> 
> if you want to yell at me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	11. Plain, Dull, Normal, Good, Simple, Nothing Much, Beautiful, Ordinary Day

“Jesus, Harley. Could you be any louder?”

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t walk on the ceiling and attach the streamers because I’m just a measly human who has to use a chair.”

“Do you have to slam it down like that?”

“How else am I supposed to move it?”

Peter and Harley frowned from across the room, their whispered argument growing heated.

“Fine. You do the balloons, then. I’ll do the streamers,” Peter said.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

As Harley passed Peter on his way to the pile of sparkly balloons, he smiled softly, shaking his head.

It was the morning of Abby’s tenth birthday, and Peter and Harley were decorating the kitchen for her birthday breakfast. Harley had silently prepared her favorite funfetti cinnamon rolls and Peter mixed her favorite fruits into a fruit salad. 

Peter, now drenched in glitter from the sparkly ribbon that he taped to the ceiling, scaled the wall down silently. “Streamers? Check. Balloons? Check. Breakfast? Check.” He sat at the island. “And the cupcakes for her class…”

“In the cupcake carrier in the pantry,” Harley reassured.

“Good. Good good good.” He grabbed a strawberry from the fruit salad bowl.

“Very rude, making a fruit salad I can’t eat.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Is it  _ your _ birthday? No? Then no special fruit salad for you.”

Harley snorted. “You’ve got me there.” He sipped from his glass of milk. “How are you feeling?”

“I told you. I’m fine. The residual damage has been healed and I’m doing better than ever.”

“You know I worry,” Harley said softly.

“I know you do, but you don’t have to. I’m fine.” He stood suddenly, hurrying to stand next to Harley behind the counter. “She’s waking up."

A groggy Abby exited her room, eyes widening at the sight.

“Happy birthday!” Harley and Peter cheered.

She smiled a toothy grin. “Wow.” She ran to them and pulled them into a tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

Peter ruffled her hair. “As much as I love your hugs, there’s a cinnamon roll waiting to be devoured and a school day ready to be conquered, so lets feast and then get ready for school.”

Abby smiled even wider, and hopped onto the stool, and scarfed down a big forkful of cinnamon roll.

“Smaller bites, Abby. That’s not very ladylike,” Harley reprimanded.

“Sorry,” Abby said, mouthful.

Harley sighed, but rolled his eyes playfully.

“What do you want to do for your birthday party?” Peter asked Abby, nearly moaning in delight from the taste of the delicious cinnamon roll. “My Little Pony?”

Abby shook her head. “I want to have a Pied Piper birthday party!”

“Pied Piper? Like that dude that led mice with a flute?” Peter questioned, perplexed.

“No, silly! Pied Piper! Only the coolest character on The Flash _! _ ”

Harley and Peter looked to each other, mouths in an “o” as they understood.

“Well, what just a The Flash party, and you can dress up like the Pied Piper?”

Her face lit up. “That would be awesome!”

“When did you even watch The Flash?” Harley asked.

“When I was waiting for my turn at rehearsals, I would watch it on my StarkPad,” Abby said with a shrug.

Harley and Peter gave each other a knowing look.

“Guess we should get planning.”

.-~*~-.

“No.”

“C’mon.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because no!”

Peter frowned. “It’s too big for me.”

Harley stared at the bright red costume in his hands. “I’m not built for a skin tight suit.”

“I disagree.”

Harley raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” Peter said, flushing in embarrassment.

“Oh? And what  _ do  _ you mean?”

“I mean that you are perfectly fit and you definitely don’t have a bad body and it would look just fine in a tight suit and, gosh, I’m just digging myself in a hole, aren’t I?”

Harley chuckled. “Yes. Yes you are.”

Peter shoved the fabric into Harley’s hand. “You are wearing the Flash costume, and you are going to like it, because there is going to be a hoard of ten year olds coming over, and as the super chaperone, you have to be cool.”

“Well what about you? You need a costume,” Harley said.

“Lucky for us, I went as Arrow at a costume party two Halloweens ago. It might be a little tight, but when did that ever stop me?”

Harley groaned. “Fine. Fine! I will put on the Flash costume.” He stomped out of the room and to the bathroom.

Peter smiled softly to himself, and went to rummage through his closet, thankful that he didn’t get rid of the costume. As he slipped on the green leather pants, they hugged his thighs much tighter than they had before, but they didn’t feel like they would rip the moment he sat down, so he thought nothing of it. The jacket, which had been a little loose his prior wear, now hugged his biceps. “A little risque for a fifth grader’s birthday party, but it’ll have to do,” Peter muttered.

“You happy?” Harley asked.

Peter turned to the door and choked on his saliva. 

“Ha ha. I know. I look ridiculous.”

Peter shook his head. “N-no. You don’t. You… you look great.”

Only then had Harley looked up, freezing similarly at the sight before him. “Oh, uh, wow.”

“It’s a little small,” Peter said.

“Yeah,” Harley responded, unable to form any other response.

“Uh, by the way there was like a ding in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what it was…”

Harley’s eyes went wide. “The cake!” He ran to the kitchen and opened the oven which released a heavy stream of smoke. “Peter! Fan the smoke detector before it goes off!”

Peter grabbed a folder and climbed the ceiling, fanning panicked.

Harley whined as he pulled out the cake which was black and charred. “Nooooo.”

Peter grimaced. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You didn’t know. I guess we’re gonna have to find a last minute nut free cake.”

Peter perked up. “There’s an ice cream cake at the supermarket that’s nut free.”

Harley snapped his fingers into a finger gun. “Abby loves ice cream cake.”

“I’ll go see if it’s still there.” Peter slipped on his converse. “Ugh, I’m in my Arrow costume.”

“There’s weirder shit in New York than you in an Arrow costume,” Harley pointed out.

“True.” He grabbed his wallet. “I’ll be back.”

Abby exited her room and posed. “Tada!” 

They had to DIY her costume, though it wasn’t very difficult. One of Harley’s black sweatshirts, a black tee, grey jeans, and knee high converse that were luckily at the Spencers they had been at the week prior. Harley threw together some gauntlet gloves for Abby that did nothing but light up. By the big toothy grin on her face, he figured she liked it.

“Where’s Peter?” Abby asked, tense.

“Getting you a new cake because I burnt the one I was making,” Harley explained.

Abby relaxed. “Oh. Good. I thought he…” She trailed off and shook her head. 

“What do you think of the decorations?” Harley asked. 

The apartment was adorned with red and yellow balloons and streamers (thanks to Tony who had them on hand at all times). There were little gift bags set up on the coffee table filled with gold glitter filled red slime (again, thanks to Tony.  _ Really Tony? _ ), little rings with lightning bolts, and Flash themed cake pops that Harley had made in advance. The gift bag was Peter’s idea. Said it was something he could never have at his own birthday parties when he was younger (which, neither did Harley or Abby). 

“I love them! It’s so awesome!” Abby said.

“I got all your favorites. We had some Halloweeen mac and cheese leftover, but no one ever looks at the shapes. We’ve got dinosaur chicken nuggets, per your request and Peter’s pleads. We’ve got pizza, pepperoni and plain. We’ve got GoGurt and gummy snacks and those Pilsbury cookies with the pictures that you guys love so much. We’ve just got a whole feast.”

Somehow, Abby’s grin grew even wider. “Thank you so much, Harley. This is amazing.”

“Only the best for you,” he said.

Abby’s smile softened. “I’ve missed this.”

Harley furrowed his eyebrows. “Missed what?”

“Missed you. Like this. Happy. Full.”

“Well I feel happy and full. I feel great.”

“Is it because Peter’s back?” she asked.

Harley shook his head and said a little too quickly. “No, it’s not that.”

“Not even a little?” she pushed.

“Maybe that’s a part of that.”

“He’s happy and full with you too,” Abby said.

“You think?”

She nodded. “I know.”

Harley pondered on the thought but shook his head. “C’mon, how about you help me fill the sink with ice and drinks.”   
  


.-~*~-.

The screeching of the excited children filled their tiny apartment, and Harley and Peter stood in the kitchen, sipping on soda and silently rubbing their temples.

“Really wish I couldn’t hear again right about now.”

Harley glared at Peter. “Not funny.”

Peter’s lips quirked up. “A little funny.”

“Not funny,” Harley repeated.

Peter chuckled and sipped on his Sprite; the party only had caffeine-free sodas per Harley’s request to avoid a room full of already hyperactive kids becoming little tornado monsters.

“It’s nice to see Abby’s friends again. Though, the last time I saw them, it was a bit hectic. Emma Lee and the other girls from the play came over after rehearsal one day to work on Hard Knock Life, but when they came in, they all huddled in her room, and there was just hushed squealing and shushes. Obviously, it was a little sus, so I went to check on them, and Danielle Montigoya had brought in a skunk! A  _ skunk _ Harley. A real life, actual skunk. And they had dressed it up in a little bow and somehow it didn’t stink up the whole place yet. Emphasis on  _ yet. _ Let’s just say, that deep clean was not fun at all.”

Harley barked out a surprised laugh. “Wow. Things get crazy when I’m not around.”

“Oh, they’re crazy when you’re around too.”

Harley shoved Peter’s shoulder lightly.

“It’s kinda funny,” Harley said.

Peter looked over. “What is?”

“That it was actually a skunk this time. When I had friends over to share a joint, I told the CPS lady that it was skunk spray.”

“You mean Janice?”

“That’s her name?” Harley asked, flabbergasted.

Peter scoffed in disbelief. “Wow. Can’t believe you didn’t know that.” He paused. “Actually, I can.”

“In my defense, when she introduced herself, I was pretty hungover.”

“What about all those times I said ‘Janice is coming over?’”

“I didn’t realize that was her name!” 

Peter laughed, turning back to watch the crowd of kids huddled on the floor of the living room while Abby opened her presents. “She really likes it here.”

“Yeah. She does. I’m really grateful. I couldn’t have wished for more for her.”

“The moms around here have been really understanding. I thought it was necessary to bring her gender situation up when she started getting invited to slumber parties, and usually they were accommodating. Abby was fine with having to sleep in a different room. The moms just told her friends that she snores loud, which she was very happy with saying instead of indulging her situation. She’s told Emma Lee though. They’re really close. Emma Lee’s sister is trans, so she gets it. She’s really great. Taught Abby a lot of tips and showed her a lot of support that I didn’t know how to give her.”

Harley swallowed heavily, eyes prickling with tears. “That’s… that’s real great.”

“Harley?” Peter asked, concerned.

“Sorry. Sorry I…” He wiped his eyes. “I just, she had such a hard time in Rose Hill, and to hear that she’s got people in her corner, and that she’s happy, it just… it means the world.” Peter pulled him into a hug, Harley letting out a wet laugh. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry. I just, it’s just so crazy to realize how much we’ve gotten coming up here.” As he pulled away, he wiped his teary eyes. 

“You know, I used to be so jealous of you,” Peter blurted out.

“What?” Harley questioned, taken aback.

“When it was just me and Abby, I used to get so mad. I was mad because I… because she was stuck with me. You know? You… you were this perfect big brother. You had all these inside jokes and a lifetime of memories. You knew her like the back of your hand and she trusted you and she loved you and she thought you were the world. And me? She was stuck with me. I didn’t know anything. I barely knew her. I mean, shit, I… I wasn’t parent material. That was all you. I was an only child that only knows how to talk to kids when I’m talking them down from high stress traumatic experience or I’m doing flips for them on the streets. I mean… I can’t even microwave food right. It’s always too cold but then I’m worried I’m gonna put it in for too long and I’m too impatient to wait for it to cool down and I get so lightheaded when I blow on it so I just eat it, hot on the outside, cold on the inside, but overall a lukewarm...”

“Peter,” Harley said firmly.

“Right, sorry. I… but you? You knew how she worked. You had something that worked. And I had to start from scratch with her. I was supposed to be her brother’s cool boyfriend that sneaked her cookies before bedtime and took her shopping and introduced her to the world of cinema. I mean I… I’m not cut out to be a parent. And then all of a sudden, I’m going to my old elementary school talking to teachers who knew me, introducing myself as the guardian of a nine year old, and I was chaperoning rehearsals and hosting playdates and making dinners and helping with homework and doing all this stuff that I didn’t know how to do and I… I felt like a fraud. Like I was trying to play the perfect parent to keep her mind off of the reason why I  _ was  _ one in the first place.”

“You did a great job.”

Peter shook his head.

“No. Really. You did an amazing job. I… when I came back from everything, and I saw you with Abby, I… I was jealous of  _ you. _ I saw how close you were, and you had your secret language and you knew all her friends and you got her to eat olives and I just… I thought I could never live up to you. Because I’d always been her big brother. You know? And even though it was just her and me and Mama, I… I wasn’t a parent. I was her big brother that taught her life lessons but still, I… it wasn’t the responsibility of being a parent. If I wanted space, or I didn’t know something, she’d go to Mama. But when you… and it was just her and me, I was lost. I didn’t know how you did it. I was so lost trying to keep up with her new life that she had built with you and I felt like I didn’t have a place in it.”

“She loves you,” Peter stated.

“Doesn’t mean I deserve it,” Harley replied, swirling his ginger ale as he stared blankly at the light glaring off the top of the can.

“I didn’t know what I was doing. Hell, I still don’t know what I’m doing. We’re… we’re new parents. And being new parents comes with learning, and a lot of screwing up. We started pretty late in the game. Well, as late as two eighteen year olds can start. But, Abby is nine, and she has her own thoughts and feelings that we have to figure out, and now we can do it together. And we will. We’re in this together, Harley, and we are going to figure it out.”

Before Harley could respond, Abby cried out, elated, “Harley! Peter! Look!”

They looked over and saw Abby holding up a pack of hair chalks.

Harley and Peter gave an enthusiastic thumbs up.

“We’re really lucky,” Peter said, still looking at Abby who was giving her friends hugs.

Harley looked to Peter, a sad glint in his eyes, heart pounding fast in his chest. “Yeah, we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Andy Mientus stan really popped out, huh?
> 
> If you want to yell me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	12. You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile

Though the Shimmering Star production of  _ Annie  _ was definitely not standing ovation worthy performance, Harley and Peter were the first ones to start it.

Abby, in the role of little orphan Molly, and absolutely killed her solo lines in “Hard Knock Life.” The girl who played Annie was pretty pitchy, and she obviously got the role because she was the History teacher’s daughter, but she did recover from her epic cartwheel wipeout, so it was pretty entertaining.

Jocelyn didn’t take Abby’s spot during the run, and they both could see the relief evident in Abby’s face, and she remembered all of her lines and choreography, so overall, it was a success.

Abby ran to Peter and Harley in the lobby, big toothy grins on their faces and bouquet of roses and a jumbo Kit Kat from concessions in hand. 

“We got a little something for you,” Peter said.

“Wow! Thank you!” exclaimed Abby.

“You did so good, squirt,” Harley said.

“You were absolutely fantastic,” Peter added.

“Phenomenal.”

“Impeccable.”

Abby giggled. “Thanks guys.” A lightbulb went off in her mind. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. It’s tradition after the show that the cast goes to iHop. There will be parents there, but you guys can come too.”

Peter looked to Harley with a raised eyebrow, who gave a shrug. “I don’t see why not.”

“Yay!” she cheered. “I’m gonna go tell Emma Lee that I can come.” She ran off.

“Do you want to go with her?” Harley asked.

“I could go for some iHop. Maybe some iHob. Haven’t tried their burgers yet,” Peter said.

“Oh, you are so splitting one with me.”

An iHop full of post-show hyped children was a little chaotic, but the parents had set a strict “inside voice” rule with repercussions that would follow if they got too out of hand.

Harley and Peter had their own booth, comfortably leaning against the cushiony seats and skimming over the menus, both with their sound dampeners comfortably in their ears.

“You still thinkin’ of getting a burger?” Harley asked.

“Yeah. There’s this Cowboy BBQ Burger that’s just calling my name right now,” Peter said, mouth already watering.

“I’ve a fair share of cowboy barbeques myself.”

Peter snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“What do you recommend for me?” Harley asked.

“If you want to consume enough sugar to make your heart slow down, I’d recommend the cupcake pancakes. Absolutely delicious, and also leaves you lethargic for hours.”

Harley chuckled. “Ah yes, because that’s definitely what I want.”

“Or you could go healthy with a garden omelette. That’s what May would always get. Garden omelette with just the egg whites. Said it was healthier.”

“It is,” Harley said with a soft nod. “You haven’t talked about May in a while.”

Peter set the menu down. “Huh. Yeah. I guess I haven’t. A lot’s happened. Hasn’t really been on my mind.”

“That’s good. My therapist says that’s a part of acceptance.”

Peter looked up. “How’s that going? Your therapy?”

“Really good, actually. She’s brought me a lot of clarity. I resented it at first because she was saying all the things I didn’t want to hear, but when I realized that she was saying it because I needed to hear it and once I opened my mind to the thought of it, it… it helped. A lot.”

“It’s hard to hear what you don’t want to hear, but sometimes, those are the things you need to hear most.”

“Very philosophical,” Harley teased.

Peter shoved his arm from across the table. His smile morphed into a moment of worry. “Does Abby know to tell the waiter about her nut allergy? Maybe I should go over and remind her…”

“The chaperone at her table knows. Don’t worry,” Harley reassured. “I talked to him about it when you were in the bathroom washing your hands.”

Peter relaxed. “Oh. Good. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s not just you that’s terrified about her allergy, you know. I remember the first time she had a reaction. It was her fourth birthday, and Mama had made this cake for her. It was called “The Tunnel of Fudge.” Chocolate bundt cake with walnuts. It was really good. I remember it being really good.  _ But, _ that was also the night we found out she had a severe nut allergy. At first, when she got hives, Mama thought they were mosquito bites from when we were playing cornhole, but then when her lips started swelling, she recognized the reaction from when all the times I went into anaphylactic shock from my very inconvenient berry allergy, and we had to rush to the hospital on her birthday.”

“Oh no,” Peter said, covering his mouth.

“I had to go to the hospital a lot as a kid. Berries are in a lot of kid’s snacks.”

“I’m sure,” Peter stated. “I just had my lactose intolerance, but I never listened to it. I just ate ice cream and cheese and suffered the consequences.” He chuckled softly. “Thank God the bite got rid of that. I love cheese.” He sighed. “Cheese is so good. When you were gone, I found this “Unexpected Cheddar” at that new Trader Joe’s that opened in Rego Park, and oh my God, it’s a game changer. Have you had it yet?”

“It was in the fridge when I came back! Abby told me she wanted a charcuterie board, and when I say that I was completely flabbergasted to hear her say ‘charcuterie board.’ It completely threw me off guard. Did you teach her that?”

Peter laughed. “May used to have them after a long day of work with a glass of wine to wind down when she didn’t want to cook dinner. And… well, there were night that I really didn’t have the energy to make dinner.”

“How did you get her to eat salami? She hates salami.”

“Was your mom a picky eater?” Peter asked.

Taken aback, Harley nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“Usually, picky eaters teach kids to be picky eaters. They can actually be very open to trying new things if you show them that it’s okay to not like something, but it’s important to try something new. I would never make her finish something if she didn’t like it, but I encouraged her to expand her tastes, and she found out that she was just avoiding foods because she thought she didn’t like them.”

“I’ve been trying to get her to try new foods for years,” Harley said.

“Well, she just needed a new kind of push, I guess,” Peter said with a shrug.

“You’re so good with her. I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really lucky to have you.”

“Oh, you’re better with her than me. I never knew how to differentiate a healthy discipline and an unnecessary reprimanding.”

“I think you’ve done just fine.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, smiling bashfully at his hands. “Gosh, look at us. We’re doing that thing that parents do where all they talk about is their kid.”

“There’s a lot to talk about,” Harley said.

“Ha. Yeah.” Peter sipped at his water. “Speaking of Abby, tonight’s performance? Surprisingly good.”

“Yeah! That kid that played Sandy had an unsettlingly realistic bark. I was like half convinced that they had a pre-recorded sound effect.”

“That little kid who played Daddy Warbucks with that bald cap? Adorable.”

“That stupid ‘I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here” song is gonna be stuck in my head forever.”

Peter grinned. “ _ I think I’m gonna like it.” _

Harley joined in.  _ “I think I’m gonna like it. I think I’m gonna like it heeeeerrreeee!” _

They both bust out into contained giggles.

“Those acting genes must run in the family.”

Harley buried his face in his hands. “Oh, don’t start.”

“Don't think I forgot about your starring role,  _ Troy Bolton. _ ”

“I regret ever telling you about that,” Harley groaned.

“ _ We’re soarin’, flyin’, there’s not a star in heaven that we can’t reach,”  _ Peter sang, criminally flat.

“Kill me now.”

“Can’t. You’re too pretty to die,” Peter said, freezing at the words. 

Luckily, Harley didn’t pick it up. “Noooo. Don’t die. You’re too sexy, aha.”

“Quoting outdated memes at me, I see,” Peter said.

“In my defense, I missed a couple months of memes, and I’ve been a little busy to catch up on the new ones,” Harley said, raising his hands up.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The waiter approached, an uninterested, blank expression on his face. “Hello. I’m Jack. I will be your server for tonight. Do you know what you want to get?”

“One Cowboy BBQ Burger with an Oreo shake and fries and…” Peter looked to Harley.

“A garden omelet with just the egg whites and a hot chocolate,” Harley finished. 

“That all?” he asked.

“I think it is,” Harley said, giving Peter a questioning look who replied with a nod.

“I’ll be back with your drinks.”

“It’s not gonna be as good as mine,” Peter stated. 

“Oh yours? You mean  _ my  _ recipe that  _ you  _ stole?” Harley asked, amused.

“I stole it because you liked it!”

“And because it’s undeniably delicious.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes, Harley, it is absolute culinary perfection and I bow down to the king of cuisine.”

“Well, you don’t have to be an ass about it.”

Peter laughed. “Oh, yes, I do. I always do.”

There was a comfortable silence that fell between the two, sipping on their waters and observing the chattering children occupying the long table and booths.

“You know, prom’s this Friday. We’ve still got our tickets,” Harley said.

“Oh yeah?” Peter replied, not looking to him.

“Do you wanna go?” 

Peter turned to face him, biting his lip. “I… yeah. That’d be… that’d be great.”

“Should probably get a suit, shouldn’t I?”

Peter laughed again. “That’d probably be good.”

“Mama used to make a big deal about dances. First one I ever went to was this “eighth grade graduation celebration dance” or something crazy like that. Mama made me wear a tie which I absolutely despised and itchy dress pants that pinched in the crotch area when I moved too much. Oh and don’t even get me started on the horrible dress shoes I wore. I begged her to let me wear tennis shoes, but she was adamant about the dress shoes. They were my shiny choir shoes, and I absolutely hated them.”

“You were in choir?” Peter asked.

Harley snapped his mouth shut, and shook his head slowly.

“You were in choir!” Peter exclaimed.

“It was required! You had to take a musical elective,” Harley said.

“Did you get any solos?” Peter questioned.

“Maybe.”

“Oh please please pretty please tell me.”

He sunk further in his seat, face burning red. “I sang the guy part to the Glee arrangement of Queen’s “Somebody to Love.””

“Oh?” Peter asked, intrigued.

“And the soprano solo in “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.””

“Oh, please enlighten me. What exactly is the soprano solo?”

Harley covered his face, and in a high squeaky falsetto sang, “ _ like a lightbulb. _ ”

“Oh, that’s precious. Real adorable.”

“Fuck off,” Harley muttered.

“Here are your drinks,” the waiter said, setting the mug and glass in front of them.

“Thank you,” Peter said.

“Now you’ve gotta tell me something embarrassing. This needs to be a fair trade.” 

Peter took a moment to think. “Oh God. I think I deleted this from my memory. When I played sax in band, we were in concert, and the back leg of my chair snapped, and since I was first chair that year, I went toppling off the stage.”

“Oh no.”

“ _ And  _ my dress pants were a few years old, and got caught on one of the hooks from when they hung garland on the lip for the winter choir concert, and it shredded the leg of my pants and left me in my underwear, on the ground, desperately trying to protect my saxophone, because at the moment, I didn’t give a shit about if I got hurt, because that saxophone a hundred fifty dollars and I could  _ not  _ let it break.”

“Was the saxophone okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine. I wasn’t though, because that concert was filmed and will forever be cemented in the form of a CD. Two and a half minutes into Sleigh Ride.” Exasperated, Peter took a long sip from his milkshake.

Once Harley had caught his breath, he took a moment to cherish the moment they were sharing. “I’ve missed this.”

“Missed what?”

“This. You. Us.”

Peter softened. “Me too.”

“We should do this more often. I know it’s hard to get out when we’ve got Abby around but I…”

“No, no. I get what you mean. Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

Harley grinned. “Great.”

Two plates were placed in front of them. “Enjoy your meal.”

“Thank you,” they replied in unison.

Peter was about to offer a fry to Harley but stopped himself. “I just… just so I know. Which triggers should I still be cautious of and which can I be more lenient on?”

Harley set down his fork, and swallowed heavily. “Well I… uh, let me think. Obviously, the name trigger, gone. Or at least, close to being gone. Though, I’m still working on it with certain tones, but I’m getting there. Triggers you can be lenient with? Uh, a lot of my personally physical triggers. Stuff like arms above my head, things above my head in general. Working on things on my neck, but I don’t think you’re planning on anything like that anytime soon.

“Uh, let’s see. Things to be wary of. Sound triggers. I’m working on them and making new associations, but sometimes they can be a little much. It’s ones that are unique. I’ve come to recognize sounds like uh, forks on a plate!” He tapped his fork to his plate. “Are not the same as what they originally reminded me of, which would trigger me. But the more unique sounds, like the twist of a safe opening or metal slotting into metal, which is quite inconvenient during the construction period of my current project.

“Very big no nos: shocks, heat, sharp objects. Still have a thing about potatoes that I can’t find the power to combat because it’s one of my worst. Think it’s association. She’d always… I’d eat before I…” he stopped and shook his head. “And taking off my watch. There’s a reason it’s on this wrist. It… the pressure reminds me that I’m safe, because whenever I didn’t have pressure, I’d… that’s when… well you know the rest. I won’t ruin your appetite.”

Peter, trying to catalogue the information, nodded. 

“I know you’ve seen my recovery from an outsider’s perspective, so you don’t know everything, but I… I’d love to share with you if you want me to.”

Peter looked to him, eyebrows scrunched in concern. “Are you sure? I don’t have to…”

“Dr. Carlyle says that it’s part of acceptance and moving on, being able to talk about things.”

“Well, if it helps…”

Harley cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna talk about my time there. That’s… I’m not there yet. But, I will talk about what it was like coming back.” He took a slow shaky breath. “The doctors were convinced that I wasn’t going to be able to eat normally for the rest of my life. Something about the pressure that was put on my throat damaged my throat. I have to chew for a very long time to be able to swallow without disrupting the damaged parts. It’s healing but it’s… it’s hard. Fruit was always easy to eat because it was soft and easy to chew. When you first… when I first came back and we had our Valentine’s Day supper, I didn’t talk much because I was so focused on chewing that I didn’t want it to seem like I was eating too slow.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Peter said, kicking himself silently.

“I had a lot of lung damage. Something from all the water I inhaled. Had an inhaler for a while which was new, and I think the hypoxia must’ve done somethin’ to my brain because it took a while to really be able to concentrate. The pleurisy didn’t last long, but it hurt like hell to breathe. I didn’t say anything though because all they could do was give me stronger pain meds and I didn’t want to get too dependent on them.

“I was sore all the time. Everything just ached every hour of the day. And I was foggy and groggy and the days blended into weeks and I… I guess I didn’t realize how much time I was losing.”

He placed a hand over Peter’s. “But I don’t want to waste any more time. Not with Abby, and certainly not with you.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Peter said quietly. “I… I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah. You didn’t.”

“Hey,” Harley said softly. “I’m here.”

As Harley rubbed circles against Peter’s thumb, the two stared into the other’s eyes, enamored and longing. 

Peter pulled away, rubbing the back of his neck. “C’mon. I promise you a bite of my burger, and it’s not gonna eat itself.”

Harley grinned. “Then we better get to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to yell me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


	13. I Thought That Prom Was Gonna Be Fun (all i wanna do is run)

Peter combed through his gelled curls for what felt like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. He just wanted to look perfect. The last months had been a hectic back and forth of “will they, won’t they” and he had almost been certain that it would be “won’t.” That he wouldn’t get to share the night with Harley. Or go at all. But there he was, in an overly expensive grey suit (that he was terrified to ask Mr. Stark the price of) that was tailored to hug his form just right with a black patterned collared shirt made of material that was more comfortable than he ever imagined a suit to be made of.

His glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, and a pink rose and carnation boutonniere was pinned carefully to his lapel. He wore Ben’s cufflinks, which he couldn’t help but run his fingers over to ground himself in the moment, the cold metal smooth calming against his fingertips.

With a nervous nod, he exited the bathroom and was met with an empty apartment.

Harley had gotten ready first, and was out dropping Abby off at Emma Lee’s house for the evening. So, Peter, unsure of what to do while he waited, grabbed a glass of water and scrolled through Instagram.

“Wow.”

Peter looked up, eyes widening. “Wow.” 

Harley was in a mauve plaid suit, a white rose and carnation on his lapel, a lovesick grin on his lips. His hair was neat but still loose and free flowing in a thick curl.

“You look fantastic,” Harley stated.

“So do you. You’re… wow. You look great.”

Harley looked at his feet bashfully. “Thanks.”

“Reservations are at 5:30, so we’d better get going,” Peter said.

Harley put out an arm, motioning with his other with a joking bow. 

“What a gentleman,” Peter said as he interlocked arms with him, head resting on his shoulder.

It was a quiet walk. Ned and Betty were going on their own date and MJ wasn’t one for pre-prom festivities, so Harley and Peter settled on a nice Italian dinner at a nice Italian restaurant. They were still dipping their toes in what was normality and comfortable. They were cautious, afraid to ruin whatever they had by going too far too fast.

It was a family joint, the scent of fresh garlic and shredded Parmesan on bubbling tomato sauce. Peter had shifted to interlock his fingers with Harley’s, a slight swing as they walked.

“Parker, table for two,” Peter said to the hostess. 

“Follow me.”

“Nice place,” Harley stated, taking in the sights of the old photographs and antique art. “Makes me feel like I’m part of a big Italian family despite the fact that the closest thing I’ve gotten to Italian tradition is make homemade ravioli.”

“May and Ben used to take me here on special occasions. They said it was the only genuine Italian cuisine that didn’t cost an arm and a leg.”

“Not costing an arm and leg is good,” Harley said.

Peter laughed. “Definitely.”

They slid into the booth, the dim lighting illuminating their faces with a golden glow.

“What do you usually get?”

“Well, this is a little embarrassing to say, but I haven’t changed my order in the fourteen years I’ve come to this place. It’s just… when I come here, it’s too good to try something else and potentially be disappointed when I know I can get something I know and love.”

“Well, you’ve got a bigger stomach now, and can probably handle a couple more dishes?”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “Harley Keener, you are a genius.”

Harley chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that.” He scanned the menu. “And what exactly is this superior dish that you are so hooked on?”

“The mac and cheese.” Peter held his hand up. “And before you judge with your uptight chefy opinions, I’ll have you know that this mac and cheese is the best mac and cheese that has ever existed ever.”

Harley grinned, amused. “Oh really?”

“Yes really. The noodles are thick but not too thick. It’s perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned, and has the bestest most amazingest cheese that has ever existed in the world.”

“I thought you said you were lactose intolerant.”

“I was,” Peter said. “Believe me, I was shitting for hours after I ate it, but it was always so worth it.”

Harley guffawed. “I did not need to know that.”

“You asked!” Peter said, hands flying up.

“I didn’t ask that!”

“What do you usually get at Italian restaurants?” Peter asked.

“Well, as a kid, I was strictly a lasagna kid, but now I have a new appreciation for spinach and cheese ravioli.”

“Ugh. Healthy,” Peter said with a sarcastic eye roll.

“Oh yes, because pasta stuffed with ricotta is healthy.”

“It’s got spinach!” Peter exclaimed.

“Drenched in so much salt and oil, I might as well have a heart attack!”

The two laughed, eyes watering and stomachs aching.

And in that moment, they let go. Their worries stored in the back of their minds, their baggage and their hurt and their grudges all cast aside. They smiled until their cheeks ached and laughed until they were gasping for air and fed each other forkfuls of delicious food.

They talked about everything and nothing, just like how they used to. They lingered their glances a little too long and they silently pined, holding back when they desperately wanted more.

As they headed out to get to the school, Harley stopped Peter as they got into the brighter street lights.

“You’ve got a little something…” Harley rubbed his thumb on his own cheek.

“Oh do I? Or are you just saying that? Because that sounds like something you’d just say.”

He chuckled. “No, you really do.”

Peter went to wipe off the greasy cheese with his sleeve, but Harley stopped him.

“You don’t want to get your suit dirty,” he said. “Here.” He took his thumb and wiped it away. His finger rested on his cheekbone, hand unmoving. “There. Got it.”

Peter’s eyes flickered to Harley’s lips, his tongue unthinkingly wetting his own. Harley began to lean in, Peter closing his eyes, when they heard a familiar voice call out “well if it isn’t Harley Keener!”

Peter groaned, turning around. “Hey, Flash.”

“Keener, I haven’t seen you in ages! You just went all MIA. Nice cover story with the whole ‘Stark Industries Retreat.’ Makes you seem like you actually have a life. But what actually happened?”

Though his hands were shaking from anxiety, Harley pulled off a scoff. “That is what happened. I know you don’t like to believe that I…” he looked to Peter. “ _ We  _ have internships at SI, but we do. And you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it.” He interlocked his fingers with Peter’s. “Now, we have a prom to get to, so if you’ll excuse us.”

Pushing past a speechless Flash, Harley let out a breath of relief. 

Peter ran his thumb over Harley’s. “You alright?”

“Just wasn’t prepared for someone to question my cover story,” Harley said.

“Flash is a dick.”

“So was I,” Harley stated.

“He’ll get over it.” Peter nudged his arm. “Hey. It’s gonna be alright.” He nodded forward. “C’mon. We’ve got a dancefloor to demolish.”

“The only reason it’ll be demolished is because of our sorry excuses for dancing.”

Peter gasped over exaggeratedly. “I am a  _ fantastic  _ dancer.”

“You’re fantastic at Just Dance,” Harley corrected.

Peter chuckled. “C’mon.”

.-~*~-.

Sound dampeners tucked comfortably in their ears, amplifying the music and conversation a few feet in front of themselves, Peter and Harley wandered into the auditorium that had been decorated in bright golds for the Roaring Twenties theme.

“Peter! Over here!” Ned called.

Peter smiled softly and headed over to the table that Ned, Betty, and MJ sat at, drinks in hand.

“Betty! Your dress is awesome!” Peter complimented.

Betty stood, doing a twirl in her historically accurate flapper dress. “I made it myself.”

“It looks amazing,” Harley added.

“Thank you,” Betty replied. “You both clean up nicely.”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t know about me. Harley maybe.”

“Oh, it’s just a maybe now? Not even a definitely,” Harley said, faux offended.

“It is now a definite ‘definitely not’ for you.”

Harley pouted. “C’mon darlin’. You’re sayin’ you don’t think I look nice?”

Peter flushed. “You’re insufferable, that’s what you are.”

Only then had they realized that the table was staring at them.

“Do you want a drink? I’m gonna go get a drink,” Peter said.

“Water’d be fine. Don’t think my stomach can handle the carbonation,” Harley replied.

“I’ll be back.”

Harley took a seat next to MJ, a nervous smile on his face. 

“I’m just gonna say what everyone’s thinking, and I’m gonna be very clear.” She leaned in closer. “I don’t care about your past. I don’t care about the things you’ve done or the things that have happened to you. All I care about, all that  _ we  _ care about is Peter. And if you break his heart again, I will not hesitate to personally castrate you with your favorite santoku knife. Peter has been through hell, and a lot of that hell has been you, so don’t give him more.”

Harley swallowed a thick gulp. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled, leaning back. “Good. Now, have a good night, and give him a good time.”

Peter returned and handed Harley a water bottle, something he desperately needed for his suddenly parched throat. “Thanks.”

“DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love” began to blast on the speakers, and Peter gasped. “Harley! C’mon, c’mon, we’ve gotta get out there!” He grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to the dancefloor.

And one song turned to five turned to ribs fuzzy from overexertion and a third water bottle and sweaty suit jackets strewn onto chairs leaving them in thin dress shirts.

And then the night was coming to an end. Prom king and queen revealed, no one that were really a part of their lives (well technically, Harley did sleep with not only the queen, but the king who he had pulled himself out of the closet for a fantastic one night stand, though that didn’t matter now), and finally, it was time for the slow dance.

“‘You and Me’ by Lifehouse. They play this at every dance,” Peter said. 

“Definitely the go to slow dance song of every public school,” Harley stated, his nerves growing stronger. “I… may I have this dance?”

Peter smiled. “Yes. Yes you may.”

He took Harley’s hand and they walked to the center of the dancefloor. Peter tentatively looped his arms around Harley’s neck, Harley wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling him close. They swayed gently, Peter’s head resting on Harley’s chest, listening to his quick heartbeat.

Peter pulled away and looked up, his eyes locking with Harley’s baby blues. Fluttering his eyes shut, he leaned in and met Harley’s lips.

It was just how he remembered it and yet even better than he could’ve ever imagined. It was safety, the warmth radiating off of his body, seeping through Peter’s dress shirt. It was familiar, the weight of his chapped lips pressed against his, hesitant and soft, the feeling of his arms snaking up his back. It was real. Months of imagining the feeling, hoping and wishing for waiting to feel this again. To taste the intoxicating taste of him again.

But it was over in a sudden and harsh second, an uncomfortable ring in his ear, and Peter dropping to the ground, body clenched and locked, his face scrunched in agony.

“Peter! Peter, what’s wrong?” Harley called, unnerved and terrified. 

“She’s… here…” Peter said through gritted teeth.

Like a bucket of ice water crashing over him, Harley went rigid. 

_ BANG! _

The oblivious partygoers cowered in fear at the sound of the gunshot.

A voice he knew too well spoke through the speakers, calm and steady. “If you’d like to live, I’d suggest you leave right now. And if not?” She shot again, the DJ falling limp to the ground.

The auditorium erupted into a maelstrom of chaos, teens running straight to the doors. But Harley? He was gravitating towards her, unable to stop his feet from the alluring pull.

Peter tried to stop him, but he was glued to the floor, writhing in unbearable pain.

“Hello, Mr. Keener,” she said sweetly. “It has been much too long. I’ve missed you.”

“Why are you here?” Harley asked, the question asked with no venom anger, just pure curiosity.

“Well, you know why.” She smiled. “I had to come see you.”

“I’m sorry that I left,” he said, the words spilling out of him as though he had been waiting to say them.

“Did you miss me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Well, isn’t that sweet?” She took a step closer, Peter’s mind screaming at the sight. “I’ve missed our time together, too. You did help me so very much.”

He turned around, mouth dry. “You’re hurting him.”

“If I don’t, he’ll hurt me,” she said.

“But… you’re hurting him,” Harley said, unable to comprehend the situation fully.

“Would you like me to stop?” she asked.

“Yes please.”

She pressed a button, and Peter’s visibly relaxed, head lulling back to hit the cold ground. 

“Why are you here… now?” Harley questioned.

“I’m not here for you,” she said.

“Then why are you here?”

“Him,” she said, nodding her head to the teen who was still catching his breath on the ground.

“Why?”

“He’s important. Just like you had been. Remember how I always told you that? How important you were? How you were good? You did so good, Harley. And now he’s going to help me.”

“But I… I don’t want him to go. I just got him back,” Harley said, mind swirling.

“Well, you don’t get a choice, Harley.”

“Oh. Okay.” He furrowed his brow as he watched her advance towards Peter, and only then did his mind clear. “Stop!”

“You don’t get a choice, Harley,” she repeated.

“I’m not going to let you take him,” he stated firmly.

“Do you really believe that you are a worthy opponent to me? You are nothing. You are weak and frail and unworthy of the life you have been gifted. You were saved, but anything that you would ever be has been lost. You are  _ nothing _ and you will never be anything more.” She turned. “But he will be. He is destined for greatness, even if it will not be him achieving such things himself. He has been forged by destiny to shape our lives, and his life is worth more than you will ever understand.”

Harley pressed the face of his watch, the suit encompassing his body. “I will not let you take him.”

“Oh. This really is quite amusing, but I really don’t have the time for this.” She pressed another button on her gauntlet, but nothing happened. She pressed it again, and then again. “What did you do?”

“Did you really think that I wouldn’t have protocols in later marks that wouldn’t counteract the codes I had provided you?” Harley taunted with a surge of confidence. “See, I have some gizmos of my own.” He smirked. “Omicron lazuli combustion corrosion nine point five four six.”

The tech that adorned her body, disengaged, heavy on her thin form, and began to smoke. She shoved herself out of armor, face contorted in rage. “Well, lucky for me,” she said, low and calm, but wavering with impatience, “I have my own tech.” She pointed her hand towards Peter.

“No!” Harley cried, running towards him.

The sonic blast shot the smaller teen across the room, body impacting the wall with a sickening crack.

Harley, blinded by fury, leapt towards her, blasting the devices on her wrists, scorching her skin. She yelped in pain, cradling the burnt flesh. He sent three more blasts, two straight into her stomach, and one grazing her legs as she fell back. 

He picked her up by the shoulders, her legs swinging helplessly below her.

“I will never let you hurt him ever again.” He tightened his grasp. “I’m never going to let you hurt me ever again.” He threw her to the ground. 

With a flick of his wrists, a pair of handcuffs were formed, and he was attaching cuffing her hands behind her back.

Suddenly, a hoard of police stormed in.

“On the ground! Now!”

Harley, all the confidence slipping away, dropped to his knees, hands in the air. 

“Iron Man?” One cop asked confused.

“I’m not… I’m… I’m not Iron Man. I’m an associate of his. A friend,” he said. “I-I apprehended the shooter.”

“Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”

His blood went cold as he realized the reason he had been fighting. He flew to the other side of the gym, kneeling beside Peter, who laid in a thick pool of blood.

He shook his shoulder lightly. “Peter? Peter, please wake up. Please, you gotta wake up.”

Peter stirred awake, squinting in confusion. “Mr. Stark? What’s with the new color scheme?” He tapped his ears. “I can’t hear anything. Mr. Stark, what’s going on?”

Harley turned on the hologram closed captioning, bile catching in his throat, horrified. “I’m not Tony. Peter. It’s me.”

Peter scrunched his brows, perplexed and disoriented. “Who are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that brings this book to a close! Once again, I want to thank every and all of you guys for sticking around. Your support means the absolute world to me and I am so grateful to know you guys love this story enough to stay.
> 
> So, that cliffhanger. Yes, I know. At this point, it's part of the "and they were roommates" brand to end with a cliffhanger. However, it's probably going to be a while until you get the next part.
> 
> When Starry and I started this fic, I had been very new to Marvel fan fic community. That had been over a year ago that we started writing together. And honestly? I'm a little burnt out.
> 
> I have put so many hours into writing this series, and I think I need a break to make the last book of the series the best it can be. Additionally, I'm starting university this fall and have a big project that I'm really excited about that I want to focus on for the time being.
> 
> This isn't goodbye. I promise you that. I have written a few chapters for the last book and have it all outlined. I just... need a fresh start. Fresh pair of eyes after working on something else for a while. I hope you understand.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading. I love you all. I hope to see you back when the last book comes out. 
> 
> If you want to yell me, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


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